The call of the game...

Over the past few days the addiction has grown. The constant clicking of the refresh button only interrupted by the red gleam of the alert box — pieces calling to be moved. Long hours and restless nights as challengers come and go. Some are defeated, others are victorious. In the end it doesn't matter, for the battles fought quench the thirst for the game...if only for a moment.

 The dream returns with the onset of restless slumber. The noble knight could no longer protect his king. He will fall into the cold grip of defeat, only to be reincarnated on a fresh field of battle. Cast again into the fray.

This is the fate of kings.

The knight is true until death, and in his next life he will faithfully take up arms beside his lord's finest soldiers.

The pieces move on their own accord, and the queens close in for the kill.

And so the dream concludes.

The addiction of my childhood has been resurrected. The sensation of polished pieces sliding between my fingers has been replaced by the clean-cut visual feast that is cyberspace.

Regardless of the incarnation, the addiction is real:

I must answer the call of the game.