Fragments Gallery
Your Move
Click. Click.
You sit quietly, eyes closed, listening as fingernails tap on the table.
Click. Click.
You wait knowing that your turn would come. The clicking stops and the brief silence is followed by a more solid sound, the clunk of wood meeting wood.
"Your move," says a voice.
You open your eyes and shift in the chair, adjusting to a more comfortable position as you survey the chess board in front of you. Things look bleak for you. Around half of your pieces have been removed from play, your opponent has suffered losses as well but they are nowhere near as severe as your own. Across the table your opponent is placing a black bishop off to the side of the board. Another loss for your side. That leaves you with only a handful of pieces remaining.
You position a rook to take your opponent's knight and look towards your opponent. You already know how this match will end. After all how could you win? How could they lose?
Your opponent smirks at you, they can taste victory. You can almost feel their confidence, it is like an aura. You feel almost palpable waves emanating from them. You reach out and lift a paper cup to your lips. Taking a drink from it you frown; your coffee was almost cold.
Looking away from them you survey the surrounding darkness. Tables and chairs fill the room but the area is devoid of life save yourself, your opponent and an employee standing bored behind the cash register. Dim lighting illuminates the edges of the room and a single softer light hangs above each table placed away from the walls. Soft rugs on top of the checkerboard floor provide paths through the maze of furniture.
You place the cup back down on the table and glance back at your opponent. They have resumed their tapping as they survey they board. Feeling a little disappointed you frown; their confidence hadn't made them too reckless. Twisting in your seat you turn to peer out the front window of the shop.
Outside the street, dimly lit by the light of a lone lamp, was washed clean by the pouring rain. You stare for a moment and then turn your attention to the script written backwards on the inside of the window. Belle Coffee.
"Three moves and I've got you," your opponent gloats, confident and sure. They move a rook into position. You smile knowingly in return. Locking eyes with them you pick a piece up from the board. With a smile you look away and move the knight into position.
"Check."
Your opponent stares disbelievingly at the board.
"But…" their voice trails off. You watch as they look for a way out of the trap that you had orchestrated.
"Check Mate."
You finish off your coffee, stand and shrug on the jacket you had left on the back of the chair.
"Again next week?"
Your opponent nods, still looking shocked. You nod in return and move towards the door. Crushing the paper cup in your hand you toss it into the trash can on the way by. You smile as you push the door open and walk out into the darkness beyond.