Behold, my chamber is overrun with hosts of winged pestilence. yet no sting of theirs afflicts my flesh. For they skulk in shadow, trembling, and dare not stir the air with the faintest flutter. The nectar of crimson life lies ever before them, yet they draw not near, for dread has seized their kind. They have seen upon my walls the fallen multitudes smitten and cast down, grim testimony to the fate of their brethren. And so they remain in hiding, knowing that the hand which struck before shall strike again.
btw i hate mosquitoes 🥔
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