Un jour special

Il y a trois moustique dans mon mousitiquere, oh OH oh, Qu'est-ce que je peut faire?

I'm not quite sure how many times a musquito that is stuck in your net can bite you until he's full, but it's enough to ruin a good night's sleep. Once he's in there's nothing else to do, but sit and listen for him to come close enough to meet his fate....Nothing. I wait. Nothing. I could pass the entire night looking for this miniscule beast, but I've been there before and it's not pretty. I'm just goning to suck it up and let the guy have his feast for the night.
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Ugh I can't sleep with that racket, why on earth is some one pounding at this time of night. It's gotta be almost 3 in the morning. Now the sound is simultaneously coming from all differents directions...definately drumming. As it passes over my head the bass is so resinating that it would rattle your windows-- or in my case my thatch roof. My heart is thumping in sinc with these floating drums. In fact, so much so that-- I'm out of breath. Part of me wants to rush outside to witness the commotion. The more rational side tells me it's better to rest safely tucked in my misquito net. No sooner than my heart returns to normal speed does the hollering and shouting increase my blood pressure once again...

To be continued (the next time I'm around electricity)