Mail Order Friendship

Posted: October 17, 2013 in Uncategorized

Queen’s knight to B4. Sherman wrinkled his nose at the idea, waddled his tired legs over to the chessboard that rested on a pedestal in his study. It balanced precariously, but there were no children treating it like a plaything, no excited dogs bounding toward the window every time a car drove down the street. Just Sherman and the sound of the grandfather clock. Once a small earthquake jittered the pieces slightly askew, but with a shoebox of correspondence, his own diligent record keeping, and a quiet afternoon, he was able to replay the game up to its current point. He rebuilt it twice, just to be certain there were no mistakes, and based on the letters he’d received since then, his work was accurate. Sidling up to the black and white checkered marble, he moved the black horse-headed token in a shallow capital-L shape. Nothing was captured, not even much was postured at, but Sherman’s eyes lit up like they so rarely did as he studied the board from two different angles, trying to steer this game on a course five turns ahead from where it was. It was the only thing that ever made him smile anymore.

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