Play with me

The rooftop of the most expensive hotel in the world, a single spotlight illuminates the only table. There are two chairs; one is empty. There's a half played chess board on the table.

He sits easy, a man used to his company. Thin; a black suit hangs off a spare frame. He hasn't shaved, hasn't slept in days. He holds a flute of clear liquid in his right hand.

Alone, he gazes out into the starless black night.

There's soft music in the background.

.....


The music changes first. It stops, abruptly.

The light goes out next. The man does not move.


Shadows within shadows, a whisper in his ear, " Too dramatic, my darling. Still," musingly, " you always knew how to set a scene". A lithe form folds itself into the chair opposite. The man still does not move.



She raises a candle, unlit; he lights it.
It is placed on the table.
"Much better"


"Your turn", his first words.

They play for two hours forty three minutes and seven seconds, in silence.




"Check mate".



The light comes on, so does the music.
There is no sign of the woman.
He has a half-smile on his face.

The flute of clear liquid stands drained.

It is on the side opposite to the man.


The moon shines on, brightly.