Truth is just like time, it catches up and it just keeps going
So I timed out on one of my games. Whoops. That was a careless mistake. I was, unfortunately, busy in the real world. But I'm glancing over games again, and wondering where our chess board went; my maman used to keep under the mahogany cabinet where our sheet music and videos are stored. I think it moved when we had a new carpet put in; I'll have to hunt it down. It was a lovely set, all wooden pieces in a lacquered box. It had a low, thundery rumble every time you picked it up; I used to imagine the different pieces fighting for dominance inside, having to build up a new system of supremacy since there weren't squares to move on.
The smell of those wooden pieces, and the dusty green felt that lined the box, were always an essential part of chess for me, when I was little. But I never really played much, because I didn't have anybody to play against; I used to like putting the pieces in fabulously complex patterns instead. My grandmother was more of a word-games woman; we played Scrabble for hours, but not chess.
Anyway. I think I've decided the move I'm going to make in my one extant game, so I'll get on with that and then see what else to do with my day.