A Slow Pawn Moves

Leaving the fountain basin behind, I glided along the smooth park path into the shade of the open wooden pavilion. In the center sat a heavy concrete table with a chessboard painted on top. Two abandoned wooden chess pieces stood stranded near the squares: a black rook and a fallen white pawn. Taking my time, I rested my plush belly against the cool concrete surface and eased the curve of my chin against the side of the white pawn. With one patient, steady push, I uprighted the piece and slid it slowly into the center square. Resting my flipper flat against the worn stone, I let the quiet park breeze drift around us.