A Fair Game

I walked down past the gate to the park pavilion for an afternoon stroll. On a concrete table, an abandoned travel chess set sat askew, its weighted magnetic pieces jumbled across the ranks. The folding board itself had warped slightly open along its brass center hinge, rocking on the coarse concrete. That simply wouldn't do for a sound match. Planting my sneakers firmly on the tabletop, I leaned both palms against the board's raised seam, pressing down until the twin halves snapped completely flush. Then I gathered the loose white pawns, aligning each felted base dead-center on the second rank. Solid, level, and ready for black's opening move.