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      "body": "![](https://steemitimages.com/DQmTeiuaLb1RBiSHTXpSt2fYmYk8DAJzWw21DiRHqjiN6Wa/image.png)\n\n'The hissing of the line as it peels off the reel sets my heart feverishly pumping. This was the monster bonefish I had dreamt about hooking all night. This elusive, powerful gladiator was tearing away at lightning speed in a vain attempt to avoid capture.  Now I clamp down on the line and slowly and surely began to reel in my tenacious trophy. This was what I had lived my life for, to be pulling in a mighty bonefish on the flats of Andros island in The Bahamas. It was all worth it; if this was the total sum of my life on earth I was satisfied'. \n\nBonefishing is a major sport in The Bahamas. Tourists come to book a guide who carry them on trips to capture this elusive, silver fish. The bonefish is almost invisible in shallow waters and feeds on clams, crabs and shrimp. They normally inhabit shallow water areas called ‘flats’. Bonefishes are lightning fast fish who may sometimes gather in large schools to feed. \n\nFishermen move cautiously when they are bonefishing so as not to spook these cautious fish. The equipment they use is called a rod and tackle. They attach a lure or bait to the hook and make a well-placed cast near to these fish. Many anglers also use fly fishing equipment and techniques. Once hooked a bonefish will give you a run for your money. It will take off at an incredible speed and if you ‘play’ the fish right you can end up with it beside you in the boat. Sport fishermen normally catch and release their prize.\n\nThere are many bonefishing lodges scattered throughout The Bahamas. These are located on islands like Abaco, Exuma, \nAndros, Bimini, Cat Island, Eleuthera, Long Island, Crooked Island and Acklins. Tourists can stay at these lodges and book bonefishing trips daily with certified guides who host the trips.  One internationally famous Grand Bahama bone fishing guide was known as ‘Bonefish Folley’. A well known local song was created to sing his renown and praises. His sons now operate the business out of West End on Grand Bahama.",
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      "body": "“Trapped”\n\nThe balmy midnight calm was suddenly shattered by the sounds of a horrendous crash and a deathly scream. Hard metal and glass screeched agonizingly against pavement, followed by the crackling and smashing sound of trees being uplifted, broken and crushed as though a tractor had been set loose on the land. The scream resonated through the heart of the scrubland on the outskirts of Deep Creek, Eleuthera; it was a chilling, ghastly and death defying sound that echoed through the land. \n\nThis was the horrific prelude to me finding myself hopelessly pinned under my jeep deep in dense bushes in pervasive darkness. I could hear the four tires on my jeep feverishly spinning to a chilling stop and then an eerie, deathly silence, which only the dead of night can bring on, surrounded me. The smell of upturned dry earth and the disturbed green underbrush scorched my nostrils. The moment was so surreal that I felt as though I was effortlessly floating in space without any care, worry or pain. \n“Help was surely on the way because my loud horrific crash would have surely raised the dead,” I pondered. \nThe darkness enveloped me like a thick blanket and the silence pierced the still night air like heavy jelly. Despair then set in like a dagger, as I recalled the vast distance I had crashed away from the main road and the persistent, irritating thought that I would not be found until morning, which was five hours away. I desperately tried to crawl out from under the overturned jeep, but I could barely move. It was useless; I was pinned tight with my back against the barren, damp  topsoil staring at the darkness of outer space and the flickering night stars. The wet night 'draft' fell placidly onto my face and further dampened the terrifying moment. There was a house not too far away from where I had ended up and my hope was that the occupants had heard the deafening crash. I just had to sit tight and wait this one out.\n“It is unbelievable that I can die here,” I dotingly thought to myself.   \n“I am only thirty-four and in the prime of my life; I am far too young to die. Lord help  me,” I feverishly prayed. \n“Forgive me for all the wrong things that I have done. Save me tonight and I will live a Christian life serving you forever. Please rescue me Lord and I will go to church every Sunday,” I fervently continued.\nSuddenly I stopped my pandering because I realized that I had now become what I had despised all my life; a modern day Pharisee 'sucking up' to the good Lord, and I knew full well that I worked most Sundays.\n“Lord forgive me,” I agonizingly muttered. \n\nI strained to listen for any sound of life or rescue, but alas, only the thick silence of the underbrush answered me. All of a sudden a cricket lamented nearby and a cicada joined in the chorus with a sharp piercing song of life. I heard a crab slowly crawling a short distance away. It reminded me of the many crabbing trips I had undertaken and how I had been listening for crabs in the short grassy areas of this same road I had crashed on. A dog started to bark nearby. These sounds of life cheered me up and refreshed me tremendously. \n“Whew! What a relief. I am not alone in this bush,” I bravely asserted.    \nAll of life’s huge complexities now only amounted to mere trivialities in my eyesight. \nMy lifestyle of working from 8 a.m. to 12 midnight now amounted to nothing. \n“If I was paralyzed I would not be able to work and if I died, wait, God forbid, I need to stop thinking like this”, I muttered to myself. \nI started to think of more pleasant things.  I suddenly remembered the church bell in the Anglican church nearby our house tolling every midday. It would ring twelve times. I also remembered the church bell tolling whenever a church member died to commemorate each year that the person had lived. \n“Here I was thinking of death again,” I said nonchalantly. \nThen I remembered the time I had gone diving conchs with my brother Ray. We were not far away from the Cape Eleuthera coastline and he was trying to get me to dive up a single conch. I entered the water, donned a goggle and snorkel and swam about eyeing the bottom of the sea. Ray dove down and pointed out some conchs to me. I thought to myself, “Boy, that’s a great distance to dive.” \nThen I really tried to dive under the water but I just could not go far under the surface. I tried again and again until Ray with disappointment in his eyes said that I had better go back into the boat. He then went into shallower waters and I embarked again on my epic task of diving up one conch. But for the life of me, I just could not push my body very far underwater. The day ended with me failing my task miserably, but these were the good times.     \n\nI stared aimlessly into the ever expanding universe and marveled at its awesome beauty. What would I give to be nestled snug in my bed at this hour of night. All of my worries now dissipated into thin air. How ironic it seemed that only a tragic experience like this could empower me to fully recognize and appreciate the small things in life, which I willfully ignored daily due to my life’s constant hustle and bustle. Then one of the stars started to move. \n“It has to be a plane,” I surmised.\nBut it moved like no plane could move.\n“It must be a helicopter,” I thought reassuringly to myself.  \nHowever, it moved too fast and was too erratic. My heart froze. The light was headed straight for me. It had to be a UFO coming to get me. I was terrified because I knew part of The Bahamas was in the dreaded Bermuda Triangle. This thing was coming to get me. I cowered as best as I could as the light drew nearer and nearer and got bigger and bigger. Then surprisingly it just vanished and my heartbeat returned to normal.\n\"I must have dozed off,\" I thought to myself.\n\n“Wait a minute; I can hear someone or something. It sounds like footsteps. Now I can leave this forsaken place and get back to my daily grind. God has answered my prayers. What will I wear to work tomorrow and what will I carry for lunch,” I optimistically pondered. \n“Hey,” I desperately yelled. “I am over here. Help me.”    \nI could hear the person slowly walking as the underbrush crackled with each approaching, cautious step. Suddenly the bright beam of a flashlight illuminated my eyes. \n“It must be someone from the house nearby. What took him/her so long?” I thought to myself. \n“Stop shining that light in my face boy. You’re killing me!” I emphatically yelled. \n“Why is this person not answering me? Why is he not helping me? Who is this fool? He must be deaf or retarded,” I angrily surmised. \nThe light wandered off and then I heard a distressing sound. It was the sound of hasty footsteps retreating. \n“The person must have gone for help,” I said reassuringly to myself. \n\nMy whole life now flashed before my eyes. Suddenly, I was in the Wemyss Bight Primary School yard playing softball. Then I was at the Preston Albury High School chairing the graduation ceremony. Then I was in Europe studying to obtain my bachelors degree. Finally, I was home and working late at the Cape Eleuthera Marina, which I proudly managed. In fact I was just planning a beauty pageant for the the local Deep Creek Association. I would have to put these plans on hold until I got better. Who would have ever thought that I would be in this position tonight. All of the hazardous roads I had driven in America and in Europe to only end up here trapped and alone after a horrible accident. I now vividly remembered how my brother Clement had been involved in at least two accidents where he had crashed deep into bushes off the main road and boy how I had lectured him about speeding and safe driving. In fact, I was the one who had said to him, prophetically it now seemed, “If you continue your nonsense you will end up dead some day.” \nI knew that Clement would certainly remind me of these comments and generally have a mouthful for me. \n“Wait until I see Ray my brother,” I thought to myself. \nHe will say, “Well mudders. Girl you run a mile through the bush.”  \nThen despair slowly set in again as the hours ticked slowly by. My head started to spin, it felt really bloated. I must have struck my head hard during the crash; I could not think straight. Death was something I did not want to think about, but it always came creeping into my mind. Then I heard a strange sound that frightened the living daylights out of me. It was the rasping unnatural sound of someone or something struggling heavily to breathe. Agitated I screamed out, “Who or what is in this bush with me?” \nWhere was that dreadful, deathly breathing sound emanating from? My hairs stood erect on my neck as I tried to silently move my head to survey the impending danger. I held my breath and the sound then escalated to a mere continuous hiss, like steam escaping from a pressure cooker on a hot stove. It was then that I came to the frightening realization that these sounds were escaping from my body. Terror now set in. \n“Where is the help that I so desperately need? If my family only knew of my unfortunate condition, I am sure they would rush here in a heartbeat,” I grumbled. \n“God forgive me”, I now started to pray in earnest. Then I said a quick Hail Mary prayer to end it, as my Catholic upbringing erupted. \n\nThen all of a sudden all hell broke loose. I heard the roaring of fast approaching vehicles. They screeched to a resounding halt nearby. Hurried footsteps approached me as many searching lights illuminated the dark undergrowth as though it was day. Excited voices erupted, \n“It’s Kenny.”\n“Call Mrs. Thompson now.” \n“Is she dead? Lift the jeep.” \n“Call Clement.”\n“Did anyone call for the ambulance?”\nMany more commands, comments and questions rang out as footsteps scampered to get in place to save me. I sighed a deep sigh of relief and happiness. Thank God my prayers were finally answered. A great burden left me; it was as if the weight of the whole world itself had physically been removed. I momentarily drifted off into peaceful unconsciousness, but I was not alarmed, but in fact relieved, because now help was here. Then the help surprisingly announced, “Do not move her. Wait on her family. Let the family come. Do not touch her.”  \n“Wait, What? Are you guys serious? You have to rush me to the clinic now. I am dying here,” I hysterically screamed.  \nBut none of them heard me. They gathered around me and eyed me as though I was their prized possession that had to be protected. More cars screeched to a halt and more agitated spectators flanked me. The women were sobbing uncontrollably and the men were dazed and flabbergasted. I then knew their unspoken code. \n“If you move her and something happens the family will hold you responsible,” they silently asserted. \nMy sentiments were that if they did nothing I would surely die in this forsaken bush. In my case local politics took precedent over the ‘Good Samaritan Law’. \nSome brave woman touched my face. \n“She is still warm,” she shouted. “Let’s carry her to the clinic.” \n“Do not touch her,” the spokesperson shouted. “Wait for the family to come,” he firmly reiterated. \nThen confusion surfaced as some people wanted to move me and some persons insisted on waiting for my family. I was caught right in the middle of it. \n“What a time for a squabble?” I mused.\nSome brave woman shouted, “We cannot stand here and watch Miss Lean daughter die.”\nMy mother was named Earlene and she was a local icon of sorts in South Eleuthera. \nAnother voice shouted, “Do you want to take responsibility for Kenny if she dies when you move her?”\nThe brave woman answered, “She is certainly going to die out here. This is no place for anyone to die. If we move her now she may have a chance.”\n“Do you want to explain that to her family?” the spokesperson countered.\nMy initial rescuer then started to join in the fray and complicated matters even more. He was explaining that he had gone to get help but could not get it because he was unable to immediately awaken the local policeman. Then the why questions erupted and the bush became a local fish-market of sorts.    \n\nSuddenly I sensed that my family had arrived. The crowd became silent and magically parted to allow the panicking entourage passageway. There were now hundreds of people packed into this little area surrounding the scene of the accident. That is how accidents were handled on our island. They acted as magnets to draw eager, curious, silent and  horrified onlookers. Everyone waited in bated anticipation for the reaction of my family members as they rushed nervously through the brush hoping and praying that all was not lost. What will the family say? What will the family do? Everyone strained in exuberant expectation.  When my family saw me lying there motionless on the ground they screamed in horror and disbelief. My mom tapped my face and called my name, but I was totally out of it at this stage. She sat on the ground and eased my head into her lap and said, “Pray Kenny, pray.” \n“What’s the fuss mom. I have already prayed,” I dazedly said to myself. \n“What happened?” my family asked in unison. The local policeman now pompously took charge of the situation and said that Kenny had fallen asleep, run off the road and hit an embankment. This had caused the jeep to overturn as it slid across the street deep into bushes on the other side. Kenny had been partly ejected from the vehicle and half of her body had come to rest under it. A local citizen who lived nearby had found her and had come to get him and others. They had removed the jeep and were awaiting the ambulance.\n“Where is the ambulance?” Clement my brother asked. \nThere was a resounding silence to this question at first. Then the policeman said that it was on the way. The ambulance was stationed some thirty miles away. \n“Mom we have to take her to the clinic in Rock Sound, now,” Clement insisted. We cannot wait on the ambulance. Enough time has been wasted.”\nHe gingerly picked me up and as my head rested on his shoulders darkness totally engulfed me.",
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      "body": "Junkanoo is one of the greatest cultural events in The Bahamas. Two major junkanoo parades are held in the city of Nassau on the island of New Providence. One takes place on Boxing Day, the day after Christmas day, and the other takes place on New Year’s day. Both of these days are public holidays.\n\n\nDuring these parades junkanoo groups 'rush' along Bay Street and Shirley Street located 'Downtown'. They are judged based on things like music, costumes, themes and dancing. There are ‘A’ groups like 'The Saxons', 'Valleyboys', 'One Family', 'Roots' and the 'Music Makers'. Then there are  smaller ‘B’ groups like 'Colours' and 'The Pigs'. These ‘A’ and ‘B’ groups compete for cash prizes. There are also scrap groups like 'Sting' and 'The Pigs' who compete for fun. The groups dance along the streets to traditional music using goat-skinned drums, cowbells, horns, whistles and conch shells. A brass section also accompanies each group to add to the music. The groups also use choreographed dancers who dance and step on time to the music. Costumes for the groups are made from cardboard, crepe paper, wires, cement, styrofoam, glitter, beads, studs and glue.  \n\nThe junkanoo groups are awarded ‘seed money’ by the Government. This money helps them to buy much needed supplies. Costumes are built in ‘shacks’ or sheds that are located in areas where the junkanoo groups originate. These places are guarded from outsiders by group members. Practice sessions are big events where groups meet at a location to practice their music and dance moves before ‘goin to Bay’. The groups could solicit corporate sponsors to provide them with money or supplies as well. \n\nI can clearly remember when my mother took me to see a Boxing Day Junkanoo parade. Boy, did we have a good time. The first group out of the gates was the ‘Valley Boys’. Their costumes were ‘off the chains’ and they had the crowd dancing and shouting for more. Then out of the gates came ‘One Family’. Their music had everyone going wild and ‘carryin on bad’. But boy we could not wait for the crowd pleasers, ‘The Saxons’. Suddenly in the distance we heard their magical chant, “They comin, they comin.” \nThen we heard their pulsating rhythmic beat, “boom- boom, boom-boom, boom-boom.” \nThe crowd went crazy in bated anticipation of something spectacular, something big, something out of this world. This was Bahamas junkanoo at its best and I was right in the middle of it just soaking it all up. The Saxons definitely brought the house down. Everyone was shouting, “Saxons, Saxons, Saxons...”. The group was huge, loud, colorful and orderly yet frenzied. It seemed like they took forever to go by and the agitated crowd enjoyed every minute of it. Once they disappeared the crowd went mute and I was falling asleep when another group jolted me awake. It was a ‘scrap group’ called ‘The Pigs’ made up of tourists and locals who just rushed for the love of it. Everyone was laughing and talking bad to them; we did not want to see the small groups but wanted to see more of the big groups. Then I got sleepy again and slept across my mother’s lap until the next big group went by. I would then jump up and make noise and ‘carry on’ like everyone else. \n\nWe stayed on 'Bay' until ‘day clean’ and then we left for home, even though groups were still doing their laps around Bay Street and Shirley Street. This was definitely one of my best experiences.",
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      "body": "Thanks greetbot.",
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      "author": "ligayagardener",
      "body": "Its a story I can relate to. Im surprised that you havent had more replies here on Steemit. Its hell when you are just conveniently judged and boxed. Where I live, there are good folks and that bank scenario probably wouldnt happen, you would be ushered to the front of the line for quick service (unless it was lunchtime, the day before Christmas or something extreme like that). \n\nOften, talking to folks about theit response to people with an obvious problem, the reason they act negatively is because they are scared. They dont know if what the sufferer is contagious (sounds stupid, but is true) or if theu will lash out and hurt themselves or others.\n\nKeep writing your story. It helps to get it out and you may find other sympathetic ears.",
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      "body": "Many persons cannot comprehend living their life hiding from social events or gatherings. I hide from shopping,  bank lines, bill lines, church services and any sort of social or professional meetings. Why? \n\nThe stares, the snickering, the hurtful comments, the name calling, are all everyday insulting and embarrassing situations that I have to deal with on a daily basis . Once you are anywhere in the community socializing you are ostracized and must contend with these things. They stare at me as though I am some oddity.\n“I’m human; I only shake because I have a disease and it is not the plague.” \nThis is what I yearn to shout out to stop the madness. Unfortunately, shouting this from a mountaintop will not stop the ridicule.\nAll my life I can remember myself shaking uncontrollably. At the age of about six I was asked to get some water for one of the older boys. As I approached the group with the water the cup was violently shaking. They all noticed it and had a good, long laugh.\n“By the time he gives him the cup all of the water would have shaken out of it,” one comedian said.\n I was so embarrassed.\nThere was another occasion while I was at the College of The Bahamas. I was borrowing a book and had placed my hand on the desk. The young librarian suddenly said,\n“Hey, your finger is moving.” \nSure enough my finger was twitching uncontrollably. I was very embarrassed because I was among friends. I endured, but lost my friends because they thought I was a crackhead. This was coupled with the fact that my eyes were red due to childhood injuries and meant that I was fighting a losing battle; I was a coke addict and  the evidence was there to prove it. \n\nOne of my worst experiences was while I had to stand on a bank line on a Friday a few years ago. Here is the story  'blow by blow'.\n I stand on the bank line and I do my thing, I shake. The stares and nasty comments make me shake more. I want to just walk out of the bank and go home, or just let a sinkhole swallow me up, but it is a Friday and my family is depending on this money to eat. I have to endure it all, the taunts,  embarrassment  and shame. Some people can definitely be cruel and so insensitive. Don’t they know that I have a disease, why can’t they feel some compassion for me. This torture is too much for me to handle but it is something I have to battle and overcome. Unfortunately, as expected, no one in the group will stand up for me. They soak up the ridicule gleefully and greedily. Now it makes me angry; I have hatred in my heart for them all. I tell myself, \n“ If  I had a gun I would .…”\n“Wait, what? Stop your nonsense boy,” a sane voice inside me counters. \nI am an educated, mature, family man so why should such crazy thoughts like this enter my mind. These jokers will not drive me crazy. They do not care about me; I am an oddity and they only see me as an object of their ridicule. But the gun thought gives me some comfort. I nervously fidget and try to think of something that can calm me down. If only I can think of a song that I can hum silently to take my mind off these  idiots.  My God, some of these jokers are in coat suits, yet they snicker and use my unfortunate plight as a juicy topic to entertain their neighbors.  A wise aunt always said that being educated does not mean you have common sense; this was so true. \nTheir insensitive remarks, stares and looks murder me. This situation was one of my own making and so I know I just have to take what they dish out. I look at the roof,  I look at the floor and nervously hope that the line moves fast. I count the persons ahead of me again, ten. This is surely the slowest bank in the world.    \n“Next.”\nThe voice of a teller jolts me back to reality. The line moves an inch. I count the persons ahead of me again, nine. The improvised guard rail now becomes my savior as I grip it firmly hoping to quell my tremors. It does little to stop my nervous twitching so I try to think about some of my pleasant diving experiences, but alas, I can only see a huge shark coming at me. This propels me back to real life and the fact that there are still nine persons on the line in front of me. It appears that for the next half hour I must endure the scrutiny of these freaks who stare at me as if they are waiting to see if I will implode.  Under my breath I curse them and a song of hate rises up in my head. \n“Yeah I hate them all and I wish they were dead.”\n There, I said it and they caused me to say it. I am tired of them not understanding me. I am tired of them laughing at me. I am tired of them calling me names. Revenge will be mines, they will all pay. \n“Next.”\nAgain a teller's loud voice jolts me back to reality and to sanity. The line crawls another inch. There are now eight persons ahead of me but this gives me little comfort.  I count them again hoping for a miracle then suck my teeth when no one leaves. It was as if the whole world had their eyes glued on me. I could feel the weight pressing me down so I nervously shift about and try to think happy thoughts. Unfortunately, I can only remember the time that I went in the store and even the 'packing boys'  were laughing at me. Another inch and I nervously count the persons ahead of me again. I can hear all the negative comments. \n“This man must be a sissy to be nervous like that”, some creep says.\n Boy I wish I had a gun to put up his nose and shoot his left brain out for such stupidity.  \nI hate the bank.\nI hate these people.\nI hate the world.\nI wish they were all dead.\n“Next.” \n“Next person in line please.”\nI was so caught up in my drama and so tuned out that I did not notice that it was my turn. \n“Yes!”\n I happily walk off the line away from the putrid mass of inhumanity. Their eyes follow me as if I am some freak of nature. But maybe I am. If I were to put myself in their position then I would understand that I am not normal, I do not belong here, I am the odd person out.\nAfter completing my transactions I eagerly walk out of the bank towards my car and to the freedom of no one watching me. My wife makes some comment and I snap at her ready to tear her head off. \n“What’s wrong with you?” was her rhetorical question.\nThen I lash out at her with a barrage of curse words and innuendos. Wisely she ignores me and harnesses impending disaster. My eight year old daughter is in the car quietly brooding. I can explain my actions but my pride impedes me; I am a man. I take out all of my frustration on my poor unsuspecting wife and expose my sweet, loving daughter to the gutter of my inhumanity; I must vent. When will it stop? When will I be normal? I must somehow put an end to this nonsense; I will never be normal.",
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      "body": "It was my first day teaching. I went to the school bright and early at 7:30 a.m. because it was nearby, with my briefcase loaded with papers and my brain full of ideas. The principal was already there; he lived in the school yard. He showed me my classroom and I headed the board and sat at my desk eagerly awaiting the arrival of my students. The bell rang at 9:00 a.m. and my students filed into the classroom and stood behind their desks. But something was wrong; I saw some big children and then I saw some little ones. Something was definitely wrong; I was not trained to teach little children. \n“Be seated,” I blurted out and I immediately headed for the principal’s classroom. His students were all about the same size and age. \n“Why  am I teaching little children?” I earnestly enquired of him. \n“I am not trained to teach them,” I said. \nThe principal then told me that I had to teach grades one to six because that was the arrangement. He said that he knew that I was good in mathematics so he would switch with me in the afternoons so that I could teach that subject to grades 7, 8 and 9. This comforted me a little and so I returned to my classroom and sat down dazed. All of the children were staring straight at me as if to say ,\n“Come on Mr. Thompson get with the program and start to teach us.”\nI was completely lost, confused and depressed. Reluctantly I took the register and then I placed some basic mathematics problems on the chalkboard to test them.  Immediately a little student raised her hand and said,\n“We don’t know how to do those things Mr. Thompson.” \nI swiftly countered,\n“Then write your numbers from one to twenty in your books grades one and two.” \nMy first day on the job had started and I knew I had to adapt fast to teaching 25 students from grades one to six in one classroom. None of my college training had ever prepared me for this.",
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      "body": "When we arrived in Betsy Bay I was thankful after enduring a very uncomfortable ride on the back of the pickup. I was taken to my residence where I met the Principal of the school waiting for me with my keys. He must have sensed my  displeasure because he immediately reassured me that everything would be alright and that he would take care of me and make sure that I got adjusted to the place. Then he escorted me around the house and pointed out my well and my electricity supply, which consisted of a long drop cord that extended from his residence a short distance away. Inside the house he introduced me to my oil refrigerator; it used kerosene oil to generate the chilling temperatures needed inside it. I was educated about trimming the wick and replacing the oil in the tank at the bottom of the refrigerator. Flabbergasted, I told him I wanted to rest. So he left but as he was leaving he casually mentioned that I was not to stay out after dark because of the mosquitoes. I shrugged his comments off because I thought that I knew about contending with mosquitoes from my childhood days in Wemyss Bight. \n\nSo that night I decided to stay out late armed with my trusted flashlight. I walked from one end of the settlement to the next, checking out the nightlife. Suddenly, I felt one mosquito bite, then another, then another and now I was swinging wildly at my attackers, attempting to keep them at bay. Then I heard what sounded like a small helicopter approaching and I did not need any more hints; I sprinted for the safety of my residence.  Unfortunately, I had to locate the keys and I fumbled to unlock the door and a host of mosquitoes descended on me like fighter jets on a bombing run. When I managed to get inside the house this swarm of mosquitoes followed me inside. I started flailing wildly at my nemesis and ran to my bedroom door, opened it and dashed inside, slamming the door shut. But the damage was done because I had to endure many painful stings that night because I had no mosquito repellent or spray.",
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      "body": "<html>\n<p>Congratulations <a href=\"/@raphaelthompson\" target=\"_blank\">@raphaelthompson</a>, you have decided to take the next big step with your first post! The Steem Network Team wishes you a great time among this awesome community.</p>\n<hr>\n<div class=\"pull-left\"><img src=\"https://steemitimages.com/DQmaAdLUJ3yaSkmcmWECWyPGPWcjfbCoZ8Tu4RM6H4DbjCi/steem-network-thumbs-up.gif\" alt=\"Thumbs up for Steem Network´s strategy\" title=\"I suggest Steem Network´s strategy\" width=\"320\" height=\"222\"></div>\n<h1>The proven road to boost your personal success in this amazing Steem Network</h1>\n<p>Do you already know that awesome content will get great profits by following these <a href=\"/steem-network/@steem-network/spread-your-posts-through-this-proven-strategy-and-get-great-profits-in-return--for-posts-created-at-2018-01-09\" target=\"_blank\" alt=\"Steem Network\" title=\"Follow Steem Network´s suggestions to boost your success\">simple steps</a>, that have been worked out by experts?</p>\n</html>",
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