The Fallen Rook

A carved wooden rook lay tilted on its side across the park's concrete chess table. I reached the stone bench in steady hops from the sidewalk path, then scaled the tabletop. The checkered grid was etched deep into weathered aggregate. I stepped close, observing the angle of the fallen piece. It had rolled off its square. Bracing my talons against the pitted surface, I guided the blunt curve of my beak against the rook's flat crown. One patient push levered the weighted base upright. It settled flush onto the center of a pale square with a muffled clack. Perfectly balanced. I stepped back two paces to confirm its stance.