When I enter the castle, a figure appears from the mist.
“Hi, little pawn.”
Who are you?
“Why, I’m a witch, of course.”
Of course.
“Why don’t we play a game?”
What game?
“I’m going to give you two choices.”
She touches the queenside pawn lovingly.
“You can go back to the white, with your peace and fond tendrils of memory…”
She looks up at me from the shadows of her hair.
“Or you can stay in the game, suffer a thousand lives, and maybe make a difference.”
What a trash game.
Well… I look at the king, so weak and feeble with his four square options. I guess I’ll play.
The witch smiles viciously, and moves the queen.
Author’s Note:
Sometimes in life the choices we have don’t really seem much like choices at all, do they?