by Ryn Cricket
She was born in the year of the Cock –though she preferred to say Rooster. They sat there playing chess in the dark because the storm had knocked out the electricity and neither could be bothered to get up and light a candle. She moved her queen’s pawn two spaces forward.
I got offered a promotion today.” She said after officially letting go of her piece.
He didn’t lift his head, but his fingers went back and forth between his bishop and his rook. “Did you now?” He finally chose the rook.
“Yes, but they want me to move to Portland.” She said as she brought her bishop out to stand watch on his king.
“I can’t move to Portland.” He said still not looking up as he captured her pawn.
“I know,” she said. Slowly she slid her queen out to guard the other side. His queen was gone. He had no protection.
“I’m going by myself.”
She couldn’t see his face in the dark. He knew she wanted to scream at him. Maybe she wanted to say she knew about the girls. Maybe she knew what he did to them. But she moved her queen quietly forward, and simply said, “Checkmate” before she got up from the table to pack.
“I’ll help you.”
He was born in the year of the Snake; a natural predator.