My Story of Chess

"I had no idea what was wrong with the girl. She'd make her move, hold her breath for a few seconds, then move her hand toward the chessboard again and touch the piece she had just put down, as if she was caressing it, or else lightly grasp the very top of the piece with her pale fingers and then turn it slightly, move it a few millimeters to one side, whisper "J'adoube" in a warm, slightly choked voice and then rest her blonde head back down on her fleshy palm. ..."

From the Georgian author Shota Iatashvili, translated by Elizabeth Heighway. 

The rest of the story: http://wordswithoutborders.org/article/my-story-of-chess