Nocturnal

Pro: you get tropical temperatures year-round, so you don't have to spend any money on heating.

Con: If you don't take a shower every two hours or so, you'll be crawling with maggots.

During the day, you can manage. Most work places give you regular shower breaks. Not because they respect you as a human being, of course, but because clients - most of them tourists from the north - refuse to stand next to, let alone interact with anyone who's maggot population has reached that critical "looking for new sweaty pastures" stage.

You can probably see where I'm going with this. Bed time is not exactly my favorite time.

Great, it's already starting. I took a shower just before going to bed, but I have always had trouble falling asleep. Most of the time, I don't make it to dream land before the first maggots arrive.

I can already feel one of them wriggeling in my armpits, while another one is moving up my butt crack. I grab the fresh towel next to my pillow and rub it all over me. Again and again. After a while, it has become completely useless, a blossoming maggot colony of its own.

Is that little creep trying to wriggle its way through my eyelids? Are you kidding me?

Out of respect for my spouse, I keep my groaning and turning and rubbing to a minimum. I really want to take another shower, but we both got work tomorrow, and running the shower will make way too much noise. My night might be ruined - time has lost all meaning, angry fever visions are the closest I can get to actual sleep - but I'll be damned if I drag my better half into this as well.

On a sidenote, I really wish I was the one who can fall asleep mere minutes after the evening shower. Me. It should have been me.

Suddenly, there is a scratching noise at the door, and then the unmistakable noise of something squeezing in through the cat flap. I bite my lower lip to suppress an incredulous gasp.

YES! Oh yes, PLEASE!

I force myself to lay completely still. I reduce my breathing to the absolute minimum.

Now there is the sound of leathery little feet approaching the bed, and that characteristic, inquisitive wheezing, like someone breathing through a delicate wooden tube.

That's right, love! Don't be shy! We're right here!

No sudden movements now. So close. So close!

Finally, I feel stubby little fingers moving over my body. A tube-like snout is poking my belly.

"Purrrr? Puuuuuuuuuuurrr?"

That's right, we're fast asleep! Our eyes are closed! We won't attack you! Come on! Come oooooon!

There it is. A slippery, worm-like tongue is moving over my skin, sweeping it clean of maggots. It even goes between my toes.

That's the stuff! Work your magic, baby!

The creature moves over to my gently snoring spouse. I know that it'll come back to me later to check if I got maggots again. For the first time in this dreadful night, I am truly able to relax.

Where were we? Oh yes, "pros" of living in this part of the country: We got THESE guys, and they're nocturnal.

Just as I'm about to drift off into sleep, I hear a horrible scratching sound. Someone is picking the lock on our front door.

Now there's heavy steps moving up to the bedroom, and an awful, salty stench is spreading through the stagnant air.

Our little visitor lets out a panicked little shriek. It jumps off the bed and, by the sound of it, darts from one side of the room to the other, knocking over furniture.

Probably realizing that the new intruder is blocking the only possible exit, it finally decides to hide under our bed.

I can hear the newcomer sniffing the air, and humming to itself in a deep, booming voice. There is hundreds of little claws clicking on the wooden floor. With just a few steps, it has reached our bedside.

It drags the other one out from under the bed.

For what feels like an eternity, I desperately try to clear my mind, try not to let the cacophony of panicked screams and breaking bones seep too deeply into my soul. Of course my partner is awake now. We have grabbed each other's hands real tight.

The massacre ends with a surprisingly dainty burp.

The predator is sniffing the air again. I feel its hot breath on my face as it leans over our bed, its flat, wrinkly face hovering over us.

Con: So we also get these things. They can pick locks.

Pro: At least they won't eat you if they think you're asleep.

It's tapping me on the head now. Licking my face. Its obnoxious breath, like the last gasps of a dying sea, is setting my nostrils on fire, while its whiskers, each moved by an individual muscle like a tiny extra limb, are tickeling my skin.

Con: It's trying to wake us.

Also, I don't know how much time has passed, but the maggots are back. One of them is desperately trying to wriggle through my closed eyelids again.

I must lay still, and yet all I want to do is scream.

At last. The predator lets itself drop down next to our bed to digest its previous meal. I derive genuine comfort from its full-throated snoring.

Maybe I manage to fall asleep after all, because all of a sudden, it's morning. I can hear the birds singing outside. In lieu of a farewell, the predator lets out a thunderous yawn before slowly walking out the house. For the first time in hours, I open my eyes, just to see its backside slip out of the door.

We have set the alarm for 6 a.m. With a bit of luck, I might still get some rest after all...

I'm just about to doze off when I hear a faint hopping sound approaching.

Part of me is already starting to panic, long before any thought can reach my conscious mind.

I have just enough time to sit up when a dark, hairy shape bursts through the still open front door, hopps onto our bed and starts scratching my face, flailing its scrawny arms and long, scaly tail like they were hummingbird wings.

"NebbbeNebbeNebbNebbNebbbnebbnebbNebbbNebbNebbNebb...!"

I cry out in frustration and despair, but I'm too confused to retaliate in any meaningful way. It try to kick it away, but I miss.

Thankfully, it decides to leave on its own, just as quickly as it has appeared.

I'm fully awake again. Angry and exhausted, but awake.

As I sink back into my pillow, my partner grabs me by the shoulder.

„I wanna move up north. Somewhere in the mountains."

Sure thing. I just hope they got the nightbears under control by now.