The Glass Grid

A smooth concrete chess table stood tucked beneath the park trees, its painted black-and-white grid catching the crisp morning sun. Walking across the bench seat, I stepped up onto the tabletop to inspect the squares. Near the center, a discarded clear glass marble sat motionless inside a chipped white tile. I paused, tilting my brim low to calculate the angle of the stone surface. With a sharp, measured tap from the tip of my shoe, I launched the marble gliding across the rank. It rolled in a straight, silent line over the smooth finish before dropping into the recessed corner pocket with a bright, percussive click.