I kill at night and I enjoy it

His ears are looking exceptionally big due to my bad
 shot and also due to the mosquito bite. I kill for him.

I switched the fan off. It was hot but the swirling wind would not let it settle in a place long enough. Also the whirring of the fan made it hard for me to hear it. The still fresh red swelling on Ashvin's ear was a clear indication of its presence. Like every night I was puzzled by a lone mosquito making it past the netted window into our bedroom. Puzzled is always my first reaction to it, almost as if I do not want to believe or acknowledge its presence. 

Then strategizing starts.

With the fan off, I present some bare flesh for it to land on. My left arm is the fleshy choice of the day.  Then I listen and watch and wait. It is usually not long for a creature with a brain that tiny to give in and come whirling along. What is surprising for its brain size - its swift reaction time.

On a good night I can kill one in midair – before it lands on me. Today is a bad night and it darts away as I smack myself nice and hard – again and again. I see it flying away, towards a wall. I jump off the bed and follow it. It lands on the wall and I smack it. I smack it harder than I smacked my arm. A spot of blood on my hand - mine and Ashvin's I think, a little creeped out – is a vibrant sign of success. I switch the fan on as I go to wash my hand. The hunt is over and I feel satisfied, victorious, and very pleased with the amazing mosquito killer I am.