Mosquito Misery

For this effort.

Slap. Got one more. He wondered how many mosquitoes inhabited the forest. And how long it would take for him to slap each one of them to a bloody, messy death. He suddenly felt a pang of guilt for wishing death to an insect. He was an animal psychologist, after all. He had been waiting for a glimpse of a loris for 7 hours now, and he was beginning to lose his patience. He should have known; the arboreal was very elusive and had only been sighted twice in this part of the forest. If only he had more grants to fund his travel to a rain forest with a higher loris population. Another mosquito buzzed near his ear, and he turned around sharply in annoyance. His eyes followed the insect fly away lazily. He almost turned away in disgust when he spotted a movement in the direction that the mosquito had taken. He spotted the loris behind a branch. It was a miracle! Bless the mosquito.