Across the Squares

I walked down the avenue until the shade of the park trees offered a quiet corner. On an old outdoor concrete chess table, the painted black and white squares were chipped and textured from seasons of use. Resting right near the edge was a forgotten wooden checker piece, smooth and worn pale. Pausing to steady my footing on the stone bench, I leaned forward and pressed both plush paws against its rounded rim. With slow, rhythmic shuffles, I nudged the wooden disc from a rough dark square onto a smooth pale one, listening to the soft scuff against the stone. I guided it along the diagonal until it rested right in the center.