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The Game

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The pieces are laid neatly out. No need to count as we sit across from each other. The pawn is the first to go but there are so many more. Standing blindly and deaf they are made quickly and cheaply. Expendable. Replaceable.  Then the next is the knight. Loyal to a fault through sweet kool aide. But he was trained to do this. He knew what may happen in battle and would exit so honorably as to cause one’s heart to burst forth in prideful song. Although one’s brain probably would be closed, stopped, drowned out by the patriotic melody. Then maybe the bishops…but they avoid capture through backward negotiations. Quick moves and careful whispers reveal their true intention of self preservation rather than servitude. Ultimately they miscalculate and their own sin is their downfall.  Perhaps you try to blind me with the beauty of your witty savvy queen. But even she has realized that the shine is off the bloom and retaliates in her opportunistic flair. She mourns what she could have been in another life but is just as greedy as the next man. She too falls in a whimper. You seem to get uncomfortable. I watch as you shift in your seat across from me as I inch slowly towards your home and your shores. You bring forth your rook, your fortress, your castle. The materialistic manifestation of your ultimate power. Ostentatious and gaudy it does not escape the eye. Ozymandis knows that it is just a building that crumbles in the end. Decided by the first in a tragedy of well placed intentions and protections of interests, the road ends here at the king. The supposed man in charge is trembling and recalling all the promises. Promises of how he would never have to stand up for himself, of how no one would ever get this far, of how his empire would never fail. Still in denial he gathers his strength and sword preparing for the blaze of glory of his final battle. To die even more magnificently than he lived. But we know the truth: he was never the one in control. No, our fingers are placed upon the pieces head, manuveuring them with our whims as apathetic bored demi-gods. But, my friend, do not be too upset about your loss. After all, it is only a game and perhaps we should play again.

Comments (2)

This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

Very good, as the metaphor is nicely done. One always runs the risk of belaboring it in pieces like this but you kept it poignant and the pace was quick. The philosophical underpinnings were also mature and thought provoking.

This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

Thank you Josh.

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