Attack of Mothra

I have to write about this. It was just too fucking strange to leave uncommented on. While I was in Trieste, I stayed at my Italian brother's apartment where he lives with his best friend. They have two other roommates and both of them are mysterious characters. One of them I met and he was totally a dungeonrat. He came out of his room maybe four times in the week I spent in Trieste. The other, they say, never comes to the apartment. Who pays to rent a flat in one of Italy's biggest cities to never sleep there? They said they've seen him in the apartment maybe four weeks out of the entire year. How strange? Anyway, because he was never there they offered me his vacant room to use as my own while I stayed there. The unused bed was clean and crisp, the empty closest space was a welcome comfort, and I spent alot of time writing in my journal on the empty desk.

What I thought was the best part about the room, though, was the window. Not only was the view incredible, but when I sleep at home I always sleep with the windows wide open. I love fresh air. In Pordenone and in Florence, the windows were always closed, and I hate feeling like I'm suffocating. I opened that window and left it wide open the entire time I was there. I luxuriated in the sea breeze while I slept. In the morning I took in huge lung-fulls of air to get myself up. I enjoyed that brief happiness maybe more than any other thing about living in Trieste. It was wonderful, accept for Mothra.

While I was sleeping on my second night there, I woke with a violent start. Something was buzzing in my ear. I've got an awful bug phobia while I'm sleeping, I always think they are in my bed, and the buzzing was so close to my ear I thought I was hallucinating. Which I often do about bugs in the night, so I calmed myself and tried to go back to sleep. The buzzing persisted. I felt terror growing inside me until finally I couldn't take it anymore. I sat bolt-upright and waited for my eyes to adjust. I hastily got up and turned on the lights. I discovered Mothra, the biggest flying bug I've ever seen. It was so big that I could see the hairs on its back and the pincers on its face. We battled, and it was fierce. I didn't want to kill the thing, and so I swatted at it in the hopes of leading it back out the window. It took me twenty minutes to get the thing outside. And twenty minutes later it came back in. We fought again.

The next night, Mothra returned. And every night after that until I left. I couldn't resist the tempation of opening the window, and every night my calm slumber was interrupted by my massive flying friend. The thing was obsessed with me. It was the most bizarre thing in the world. The bug wouldn't fly in during the whole day, but once I fell asleep it would haunt me all night. I'm convinced it was the animal spirit of the boy whose room I was occupying telling me that I was unwelcome.
Arrivederci, for now.
Love, Gabby