Pawn. g3.
Have you ever noticed empty space? Connected like oceans, together providing both drive for exploration and fearful uncertainty. One vast expanse lies before me from rank two to seven. Another lurks, hidden yet palpable.
Bishop. g2.
He reminisces about enthusiastic young years, scattering imaginary boards containing different scenarios every which way. At some point, we had coalesced, engaged, invested in each other’s futures. Perhaps this was forced, necessitated via companionship needs. Those surrounding us prove convenient. Quick friends become forever entangled.
Knight. h3.
Hmmm, seems defensive. Throughout childhood, my opponent’s play likened medieval sieges. Now, the corner appears beckoning, received with gracious embrace. Minutes prior, conversing lightheartedly fleshed out culprits. University, business, politics: timelessly, effortlessly unsettling strong minds. Were old comrades so incompatible? What labors once casual interactions? Unfamiliarity? Teddy bears come across rather pleasant, warm even. His were ripped open, drug abuse remnants. Fuzzy cuddle toys can be cold also. Still, common worries plague our simpleton hearts.
Castle.
Sometimes I wish high school never ended. Words flowed smoothly off free tongues. Signs abounded, just unnoticed. Often, mutual acquaintances offered corrupting substances, easy releases. Gradually wearied, weathered by indifference, student number 137 caved. 138 did not, partially thanking Christian upbringing. 139 died.
Tipped king.
Destroying turtles’ shells yields neither pleasure nor fulfillment. Expressionless faces reveal more than any impassioned speech could. Relationships fade into cordiality at best. Eventually devoid of love, all are lost.
Swimming abreast amphibians amuses onlookers. They last broke water’s glistening surface too long ago.
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