It was a clear summer day. An airplane flew overhead, oblivious to terrestrial troubles. Tall green fields of corn spanned for miles in between the gridlines of highways and dirt roads. A mosquito, finishing the last few tastes of a groundhog vein, spread its miniscule wings and took off. It zipped upwards until it was flying above the corn field. The magnificent blue sky had no visual appeal to the insect. The air was warm and the field was peaceful. The mosquito continued flying towards the edge of the field where a deep ditch lay. When it reached the ditch, it flew downwards and landed…
