Lord Luvvadukk (Part 3)

Luvvadukk stopped in the middle of the work room and looked right and looked left and looked right at the cut glass ashtray that sat on the windowsill with three half cigars.  He picked one up and put it in the breast pocket of his yellow denim shirt that was unbuttoned up and loose at the wrists and opened the window to shoo the fly out.  The fly dodged this assault and being a feeble minded fly refused to fly out the open and bounced around up at the top.  Luvvadukk sparred with the fly for nearly ten minutes and began to think that this might never end, that his niece might come next week and find him still fighting to get the fly outside or he may even die before this happened.  Sometimes a fly is so bent, its best to let them do the wrong thing and beat their wings against the glass until they drop dead on the windowsill for the wisp of a corner spider to prize.  Lord Luvvadukk stopped fighting with the obdurate and padded silently back to the door, where he turned and took a one minute look at the fly who was now stalling the inevitable and resting on the window lock.  For this entire minute neither of the two characters moved.  To the fly, it seemed as if time was flying by and for the man it seemed as if time did not exist and the fly was so big and so bright, flicking on the white window sill, that it was the contradiction of life, the unenviable state of knowing enough to know you are trapped alive but not knowing enough to save yourself from your own inspired death.  Luvvadukk knew about as much as the fly did in this regards.