| One night, I had prepared for bed as usual, had | | | | the moth leaping onto my arm again. |
| switched on my alarm clock and turned out the light, | | | | If I didn't know better, my over-active imagination might |
| and settled in for a good night's sleep. It was just as I | | | | have thought that the insect was purposely waiting |
| was drifting off, that it attacked me. Suddenly there | | | | until I was almost asleep before launching it's attack. |
| was something at my arm. My heart leapt in alarm and | | | | Why didn't it go somewhere else in the room, |
| I was quickly awake. It took only a second or two for | | | | considering there was so much space available. It was |
| my brain to register what had been jumping onto my | | | | then I realised that it was the day after the first nuclear |
| arm. It was a moth! Now in my bedroom I have over | | | | bomb test by Thailand. Obviously it'd been mutated by |
| ten square metres of wall space, several square | | | | the bomb and was now a heat-seeking, bloodsucking |
| metres of curtains, a room divider, a large built-in | | | | moth, intent on draining me dry. Fortunately, I don't fall |
| cupboard and a computer desk and chair. Now out of | | | | for my own ridiculous stories, and I soon fell asleep |
| all the places that the moth could have chosen to land | | | | again. I'm not quite sure what the two tiny puncture |
| on, it had selected my bare arm. I settled down and | | | | marks were that I found in my neck the following |
| was soon drifting off again and suddenly there was | | | | morning... |