Communicating is important to me. I do it for a living, after all. To me, communication between friends, family, lovers, is a way of saying “I’m thinking about you. You been something to me.”
So what do you do when you meet a man who’s funny, intelligent, charming, sometimes sweet (but not too sweet), adventurous, and hot damn sexy. A man who, despite the claim he likes me, can’t, or won’t, communicate. A man who doesn’t seem to understand how much it annoys me. A man who may not made it maliciously but who drives me insane.
What do you do then? Give up? Or continue in the hope it’ll turn into something more.
Moments in time: 10 minutes of writing. No wordsmithing. Just words.
A mosquito’s whine is perfectly pitched to annoy and induce panic and paranoia.
Has it found my delicious blood yet? Why is it dive-bombing my head? Is it trying to attack my ear?
The fact that you know the silent mosquitoes are the deadly ones does nothing to dispel your fear.
And so you turn on the light, ready to face the enemy. You are greeted by your empty and lonely room – just the way you left it.
On a wall, just out of sight, the mosquito sits and waits, waiting for darkness to descend so he can start his whining waltz once more.
Moments in time: a concept thought up a 3.30 this morning as I was attacked by, funnily enough, a mosquito. 10 minutes of writing. No wordsmithing. Just words.