Thirty mosquitoes in daylight are nothing compared to one lone terrorist at night. Waiting until you're nearly asleep, the Stealth Pest approaches with engines roaring. Night after night, you wait until he hovers just above your ear before you strike --- knocking yourself so senseless that trying it again a few minutes later seems reasonable. It's really time for a mosquito net. There is no more satisfying sound in the world than the grumpy buzz of an unfed bug. Unless it is a chorus. And there is nothing more sensual than sleeping beneath white gossamer. Unless it is black.
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