Today's starter is: under attack.
I'm sitting on an uncomfortable bench (aren't they all though? I've yet to meet one that isn't) outside the building I'm taking my lunch break from, trying to write. The sun is high, white clouds dot the sky, conditions are nearly perfect. Nearly, but not quite.
You see, I'm under attack.
In the five minutes I've been sitting, shifting and squirming here, no less than eight inchworms have descended from the tree branches above and landed either on or beside me.
Okay, I'm inside now. I love nature and all that good crap but I have my limits. An inchworm rappelling onto my nose is well beyond them.
It's probably for the best that I left when I did - that squirrel in the grass ten feet from my unforgiving seat was probably their backup. Inchworms - annoying but manageable; squirrels - those bastards will mess you up.
Update: I just found one sneaking around on my backpack. I think we all know what this means - they sent an agent to follow me home so that they could get me in my sleep. Not this time you creepy, crawly cowards. Not this time.