The Game
It was him against her: a battle of the wills. She was moving faster now that her pieces had broken from their normal charms and could move with grace along the board without rules. Struggling to keep up with his insistence that rules should stay, he was moving within the confines of the game and doing surprisingly well. A game of chess never went so far, but she was the master and no one could realize that she never followed the rules. Finally, he broke and the pieces went scattering everywhere. Pieces attacked each other without rhyme or reason and soon traitors were showing up— his white knight was now fighting his white bishop. Suddenly it all stopped and her king was being held hostage in his corner by a bloody white queen. The pieces were breathing heavily waiting for those final words when they could collapse on the board…
“Check mate.”
This entry was posted on Friday, August 17th, 2007 at 12:42 pm and is filed under Fantasy, Fiction Prose. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.