The bishop locked himself in the way of my queen, with the support of a pawn. The young guard is happy that he was tempted for a certain victory. He even forgot my thirty years of experience to tackle such situations and,
“There you go…Nice move, isn’t it ?”
To my defense, I was a little preoccupied with a thought. Chess is a game of patience. I know that he holds a leverage but I highly doubt that he can withstand the power.
On the evening of March the 8th and at the age of seventy, I sat playing chess with an amateur.
“Do you want to know about a Bishop in my real life ?”
“No…Now, you can’t trick with your stories…” he said, making a hand sign to make my move.
I told him one on our second game and my victory brought some complaints.
After seven minutes, when the timer between the moves took more than two minutes…
“A bishop, huh…” He looked at me.
Well, I couldn’t blame him as he probably never heard a story about a bishop.
“What do you know about him..?” I pointed to his Bishop.
“It…ahh…. moves across and kills whatever, it can…”
“Yes, it is rather unused by many players but it is one of the most powerful players in the game…”
“I don’t understand..”
“Whatever the situation that he may face, he would never step out of his reasons. Either the black or the white, no one can intimidate him…”
“How did you met him..?”
“It was not exactly an official introduction. When I was of your age, the bishop almost got me killed…”
“Is it…?” His hand went under his chin,
“So, what did the majesty call his bishop…?”
I could see that he is calling my bluff but I decided to proceed anyway,
Thank you for reading…