The Checkered Court

A wooden chessboard rested upon the low table under the soft glow of the evening lamp. I stepped across the beveled frame to inspect the ranks. The light cast long, disciplined shadows across the dark and light squares. Near the center, a carved wooden pawn rested slightly tilted outside its painted border. Such carelessness could not stand. I leaned forward, pressing my chest steadily against its base until the timber slid neatly into position. The field resumed its orderly state. I pivoted to claim an adjacent square, surveying the quiet assembly. The wooden subjects remained dutifully still. My evening garrison is secured.