Copyright © 2014 by Curtis Couch
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Chapter 1
Mike lay in bed with a red haired girl nestled against his chest. He glanced at the empty bottle of whisky on the chessboard, and sighed. His mother had bought him it as a gift back when he’d earned his GM title; now there would be ring marks on it.
“What time is it?” Mike loved her French accent; he wanted to relive last night all over again.
“1 o’ clock,” he replied.
“Shit!” He said when he realised where he ought to have been 10 minutes ago. He sprang from bed, threw the pink bra and panties at the dame together with her black dress. “I’ve gotta go babe.” The duvet slipped down revealing her white breasts; the girl was forlorn. He kissed her open mouth, then ran out the door.
The girl fastened her bra when she said, “Merde.”
***
Mike cast 20 euros at the cab driver; he took a moment to look at the Chapelle de la Villedieu. He hated the sight of the old church just west of Paris. He was having such a bad tournament, and now he was late.
A murmur broke out as he entered the room. Mike dismissed the spectators with a flick of the wrist. He sat in his seat where a Russian GM cast his eyes over him - an interrogation which Mike cared little for. Petrosian looked displeased. It might have been the smell of whisky on Mike’s breath, or perhaps it was Lola’s red lipstick on the collar of his shirt.
Either way, Mike played his first move, e4.
25 moves later, Mike was lost. Ben was playing on the adjacent board; his best friend’s eyes said it all. He shook his head at Mike. But Mike didn’t need the lecture - not now; what he needed was Lola, the seductress in a tight black dress, red lipstick, and pink lingerie.
Petrosian played b4.
After a 20-minute think, Mike left the old church – he’d resigned.
When he returned home Lola had gone.
Mike turned on the Kings of Leon, and got in the shower. It was as Caleb Followill belted out the chorus to Sex on Fire that the phone rang. He shut off the water, “Hello…Yeah I know….No I wasn’t drunk…So I hung my knight…What?... Yeah, ok…. See you.” It was Ben wanting to grab a coffee later. Mike knew it a pretense, but he would go anyway.
Sex on Fire kicked back in, he sat down looking out the apartment’s window; children played in the streets while their mothers chatted convivially, he couldn’t shake b4 out of his head, a dreadful blunder on his part not to have seen it.
***
Mike descried the coffee shop - Starbucks. He pushed open the door. A steaming caramel macchiato rested in front of Ben, who was busy looking over his notes. The pair made eye contact, and, drawing a deep breath, Mike strode over.
“Good evening.”
“Evening.” Ben pushed his notes to one side. “How’ve you been? We never talk these days.”
“I’ve been good you know.”
“It didn’t seem like it today.”
“Yeah well, chess isn’t the be all and end all.”
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Tatiana
Short StoryMike is a gifted chess player, but he's long since given up on life. He doesn't see the point in doing anything anymore. It isn't until he meets a pre-eminent ballerina - Tatiana - that he finally begins to understand. But it is perhaps too late. Co...
