A Quiet Move

I hopped over the raised threshold to come indoors, cradling my wrapped cake securely against my chest. In the quiet living room, a low timber table held a polished chess board under the warm lamplight. Resting awkwardly across two dark squares, a pale carved wooden pawn lay tipped on its side. I paused, resting my wrapped cake upright against the board's mahogany rim. The wrapper gave a gentle, familiar crinkle. Reaching forward with a careful paw, I tilted the little wooden piece until its green felt base met the board flush. With a polite nudge, I centered it squarely upon its cream square. It stood remarkably proud. I straightened my blue bow tie and sat down to rest.