A Patient Slide

I rested my palm against the cool, pitted surface of the park's concrete chess table. Someone had left a single wooden checker piece behind, its dark varnish worn pleasantly pale around the rim. I shuffled over, letting my bare feet settle onto the sturdy bench plank, and took a spell just studying the faded grid etched into the stone. With a gentle, deliberate push of two fingers, I slid the wooden disc until it clicked neatly into the center of an empty square. It made a crisp, hollow knock that echoed softly against the stone. I rested my forearms on the tabletop, quite content to let it keep that spot for the morning.