September 11. Time to commemorate – with a game. Again. Alice rewrapped the bandage around her heart, knowing it might not contain her multiform grief. Sometimes it flashed, luminous, burning; other times it was nebulous, tickling. She still remembered the day Frank had foisted his chess board upon her… and his deliberate blunder that swung… Continue reading September 11. Again.
A kyrielle Been playing for over a year; So, what might my best next move be? Could writing become a career? ~ Thus far, it's been purely for me. I've mastered some challenging forms. So, what might my best next move be? It's such fun to tinker with norms. ~ Tacticians, proficient, coach me. With… Continue reading Openings, or: End game