The silent yet persistent young mosquito quietly fluttered its semi-transparent wings against the wind. The target was an easy one. He was sitting quietly, in a comfortable looking chair, slowly munching on his disgusting piece of cooked meat. The mosquito thought how unbearable it must be to cook the sweet and delicious blood away from the sizeable portion of meat but banished the thought and began to focus at the task at hand.

            With the ever so graceful touch, the mosquito touched down on the back of the poor victim’s neck and examined the soft layer of tissue for weak spots. After a brief moment, the mosquito noticed one of his friends slowly draining an area near to him.

            “The blood is ever so delicious over here,” said the satisfied looking mosquito from the corners of his mouth.

            “I think I would prefer this tasty looking spot over here,” the mosquito replied and slowly meandered to a particularly tasty looking spot. Little did the mosquito know, the victim slowly raised a massive hand and with a fluent motion splattered his fellow companion just as soon as he had landed upon his spot.

            Tears welled into the mosquito’s eyes and even though it had been a matter of a few seconds, it felt as if this companion had been there his whole life. The mosquito began prancing about the back of this heretic’s neck, stabbing with vigorous jabs but was soon silenced by yet another motion from the victim’s hand.