That anything of an exotic nature would enter his dreary existence was not in the catalogue of possibilities for Kopec.  Although he had read a great deal when he was younger, of tantalizing philosophies, exciting travelogues written by daring explorers and fantasies of speculation, his slow decline into gray middle age had begun to evidence as slow, looping ideas that seemed somehow calculated to drive him mad.  The sudden appearance of such a novel creature as this flying lizard seemed at first a ludicrous apparition, the final stamp of approval on Kopec’s impending madness.  Kopec strenuously rubbed his eyes; he blinked and contorted his face trying to see from different angles, attempting to convince himself that his eyes were not lying to his mind.

 The small amount of light that lingered in the room was soon dispelled by the shadow of the visitor, which was accompanied by the sound of leather slapping against air. Kopec withdrew from the window and stepped back a few feet, and none too soon, as a scaly claw tried to obtain purchase on the windowsill.  Accumulations of powdery mortise showered down upon the street below, and the moldy wood of the window frame split, threatening to take the aspirant down with it.  Eventually, a curved and ferocious beak peered around the window frame, a wing was tucked into the room, and toppling dangerously, the table became home to one claw and half the weight of the visitor. “Hello Kopec” hissed the arrival, “Better go put the kettle on, I’ll have tea!”

 The visitor squirmed the rest of its’ body into the room, steadied the table and sat on its’ haunches. Kopec, his heart beating like a Voodoo celebration, wiped the perspiration from his face, rubbed his hands on his pants, and backed into the corner that served as his kitchen area. Stuttering, he breathed, “I don’t have any tea, all I have is a half bottle of vodka!” “That will do nicely, really it will” soothed the winged one. “All I want, is a little company, some good conversation, and to share with you some of my thoughts on various matters. Does that intrigue you?” “I suppose so,” Kopec intoned in a tentative and almost questioning tone. Kopec was most evidently unsettled, one might almost say bordering on hysterical. “Why have you come, what do you really want?  And how can you speak to me, why, you’re not even human? What are you?” “Haaaa! So many questions my poor little gray mouse! Do not concern yourself with them for the moment, just bring the vodka, and then... all will be revealed”

 The little gray mouse reached up and flipping open the cupboard door, reached in. After fumbling around for a few moments his hand emerged clutching the half bottle of vodka. He held the drink out, making an offering of it, and it was immediately clutched and set down.  “Now, I have glasses here somewhere, I know I do, please, please be patient”.  “No need to be flustered” wheezed the visitor “I know this whole episode must be quite unsettling for you.”  Kopec at last secured two glasses of differing design and cautiously set them down on the table next to the leathery guest. “Capital, my dear Kopec, capital! Very soon, you and I shall be engaged in the most novel of discussions...now, about these empty glasses my friend! Please pour, I think your hands are more suited to the task of filling them than my own.” Kopec began to pour from the bottle, with shaking hands, sweat rolling down his high domed forehead. He pushed the chair to the table, muttering small words of disbelief, and sat down. “Do you have a name?”

A long silence ensued, interrupted only by a dry tapping as the caller drummed an occasional tattoo on the table with bony claws. At last he spoke.  “If I tell you this name...it will mean nothing to you, at least not presently. But I shall tell you and your mind will make sport with it for a while, this is after all, what you enjoy the most, no?”  “It would appear you know something of me” said Kopec “although I haven’t the slightest idea how that could be, I never knew you, or that you were possible for that matter.” After some further moments of silence, the beast spoke. “In that case, my new, but so old friend, my name is Spur.”