The Hidden Pieces
In the quiet corridors of my childhood school, where the distant echoes of laughter were replaced by hushed whispers, I found myself drawn to a solitary figure engaged in a silent game of chess. The woman, her face concealed behind a mask, sat focused on the intricacies of the chessboard.
Intrigued by the enigma of the moment, I approached, the soft echo of my footsteps blending with the ambient environment. As I reached the table, she looked up, and even though her features were obscured, I felt a familiarity in the depth of her gaze. Without a word spoken, I took a seat across from her.
The chess pieces moved gracefully under her adept fingers, each strategic placement revealing a profound understanding of the game. As the pieces danced across the board, I couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter held a significance beyond the chess game itself.
In a voice muffled by the mask, she spoke, addressing me by name. A shiver of recognition passed through me as she revealed an unexpected knowledge of my life, a depth of understanding that transcended the ordinary. Questions lingered in my mind, but before they could find voice, she motioned for me to play, the board was obscure despite being before me, plunging my logic into quandary.
And then, with the suddenness characteristic of dreams, I awoke. The school corridors and the chessboard faded, leaving behind a residue of intrigue and a lingering sense of connection. I checked my phone, it was 3.22am, I've not played chess for a week because of my exams. I sat up, pondering over the meaning of this dream till dawn.
Intrigued by the enigma of the moment, I approached, the soft echo of my footsteps blending with the ambient environment. As I reached the table, she looked up, and even though her features were obscured, I felt a familiarity in the depth of her gaze. Without a word spoken, I took a seat across from her.
The chess pieces moved gracefully under her adept fingers, each strategic placement revealing a profound understanding of the game. As the pieces danced across the board, I couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter held a significance beyond the chess game itself.
In a voice muffled by the mask, she spoke, addressing me by name. A shiver of recognition passed through me as she revealed an unexpected knowledge of my life, a depth of understanding that transcended the ordinary. Questions lingered in my mind, but before they could find voice, she motioned for me to play, the board was obscure despite being before me, plunging my logic into quandary.
And then, with the suddenness characteristic of dreams, I awoke. The school corridors and the chessboard faded, leaving behind a residue of intrigue and a lingering sense of connection. I checked my phone, it was 3.22am, I've not played chess for a week because of my exams. I sat up, pondering over the meaning of this dream till dawn.
