Moment of truth: mosquito

I once read an article on the capacity of brain activity in a mosquito. They don't feel pain because a lot of connections aren't there. Their brains, smaller than their pathetic little bodies, aren't capable of such complex feelings. All they know is the need of survival, the need for blood to maintain their jobs at the bottom of the food chain. The mundane zombies of everyday life. And as I saw this mosquito, that has been feasting on me all night, trying to escape my cigarette smoke hitting the ceiling over and over frantically. I contemplated possibilities.

But now all it amounted to was a half mangled form plastered to the wall. The other half quivering useless on the tiny palm, that ruined, which must have been so large in the last moment, while a white feather floated.