How to Recognize the Mosquito Apocalypse (Or, Summertime in Virginia)

Alison Main
The Haven
Published in
3 min readAug 27, 2018

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Photo by AdinaVoicu (Pixabay)

August 20:

Walk outside after 5pm.

Acquire five mosquito bites in under five minutes.

Walk back inside.

Spend the next two hours applying tea tree oil to bites.

Stay inside.

Vow never again to go outside after 5pm.

August 21:

Walk outside at 4pm.

Light three citronella candles.

Position citronella candles directly around perimeter of body.

Acquire five more mosquito bites in under five minutes.

Complain to all friends that the mosquitoes in Virginia are “simply impossible this summer!”

Friends nod and scratch in agreement.

Scurry back inside.

Spend the entire evening applying tea tree oil and ice packs to red and swollen bites.

Hide inside all night.

Fear the outside.

Firmly vow never again to go outside near dusk.

August 22:

Walk outside at 12pm, fully-clothed in 98-degree heat.

Acquire ten more mosquito bites on exposed forehead and hands in less than two minutes.

Run screaming back inside.

Pledge to move to Arizona.

Email friends in the Southwest to inquire if there are mosquitoes in Arizona.

Read email tales from desert-dwelling friends of terrifying “other” monster insects and horrific rattling critters in Arizona.

Decide to stay put in Virginia.

Spend the entire night praying for winter.

Vow to develop biohazard shield for morning errands.

August 23:

Strategically leave house at 9am slathered in lemongrass oil.

Bolt directly from house to car to avoid mosquitoes’ powers of hyper-perception.

Check skin in car.

Feel relieved to discover no new bites.

Start driving.

Suddenly feel itchy while driving.

Nearly get into an accident while driving after spying a mosquito flying around INSIDE THE CAR.

Panic that the mosquito is stealth enough to follow a person into the car.

Worry that mosquitoes have become smarter than humans.

Develop paranoia that the government is testing Artificially Intelligent mosquitoes on targeted populations.

Persuade self that the A.I. weaponized mosquito theory makes geographical sense given Virginia’s proximity to Washington DC and The Department of Defense.

Become convinced that Superintelligent Mosquitoes will surreptitiously and expediently end the human race.

Realize car is about to crash into an oncoming vehicle while musing on DARPA’s plot for mosquito world dominion.

Kill mosquito with bare hands while driving.

Note to self that this skill should be added to the Virginia driver’s license exam.

Drive home.

Run into house with arms flailing to distract oncoming mosquito drones.

Email friends to save themselves.

Scoff when holistic-minded friends suggest diffusing lavender and eucalyptus essential oils will safeguard civilization.

Hide under covers.

Concede that regular bed linens are no longer sufficient for survival.

Order 5,000 yards of mosquito netting on Amazon.

Message to neighbors and suggest they do the same.

Realize Amazon’s data algorithm will recognize this deviation from typical purchasing patterns.

Worry Amazon’s A.I. will warn the Mosquito Apocalypse A.I. that some keen Virginians appear to be “on to them.”

Email possible plot line to Netflix’ Black Mirror.

Hope for Emmy Award-winning episode before imminent demise.

Resign self to final days of existence.

Never leave house again.

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Alison Main
The Haven

Writer & Graphic Designer. Published in Craftsmanship Magazine, Paleo Magazine, Best Self Magazine, Notre Dame Magazine, etc. www.alisonmain.com