hey everyone, for this month’s blog i have decided to continue on with the story that i began in last month’s blog, but as the year begins to close, and knowing that i only have two blogs remaining i want this part to be my last, becuase i am hoping to make my last two blogs more of a reflection on my time at msa, but anyway-
But as days passed, so did the inches between him and the men in the park. It was only until one of the later days did, they begin to notice him as well, however Dmitri was not sure if it was in a positive or negative connotation. As he had once again found himself entranced with the way that each man would slowly drift their hands across the board as they continued their game. But before he was able to look more into the way the men’s hands would begin to move, he felt something brisk, yet firm grasp his back collar and pick him up into the air. “The fuck do you think that you are doing” a man said to him, the contents of whatever he had eaten that morning spewing on to Dmitri’s face. His teeth were stained a deep yellow and the smell of his breath was something that Dmitri remembered very strongly but did not know how one would even attempt to try to describe it.
“Let the boy go” he heard boom from throughout the park, or at least it felt as if that was what was happening. Though he was almost certain that whether or not the voice was booming, it caused the man who still had Dmitri’s collar in his grasp to take a step back and quickly drop him to the hard concrete of the park’s path. ” If the boy wants to watch us play than there is no reason why he cannot, and no reason why your fucking disgusting hands should be on the collar of a boy that you do not know,” he said, “Do you understand?” He asked the man; however, he was only met with a fearful studder. “Come get a little closer boy” the man said, getting closer he realized that it was the very same man who he would love to watch. He had slicked back black hair and a nose that would protrude out the front of his face like a plant attempting to escape the confine so of the soil, but most of all he found himself once looking again at the man’s silver tooth, shining in the reflection of the marble board. As the game continued on, and each man would periodically make moves that had only begun to make the smallest bit of sense to him. He did not know the name of the pieces; however, he knew what each of them did, or at least he thought that he did. “Checkmate” the silver toothed man exclaimed as he slowly placed down his large piece that sat next to the piece with the cross on its head. “Son of a bitch” the other man exclaimed, standing up and angrily throwing his hat on the ground, soon after he began too reluctantly pull money out of his back pocket and placed them in the silver toothed man’s hand.
Walking away that afternoon he felt as if there was something different, as if getting to see more than just the periodic movements of the pieces themselves changed the way that they themselves would move. Seeing the way that the man would angrily fork over the confines of his wallet just because he moved his pieces the wrong way. Even as Dmitri lied back in one of the alleyways that he frequented it was all that he could think about, even though it had been months of watching the men play, tonight he felt as if he needed to make his way there again. So, the moment that the streetlights turned dark, Dmitri found his legs moving faster than he knew they had the capability of moving. Getting to the park he found himself walking slower and slower, as if something was going to happen if he got too close to boards, but the closer and the closer he found himself getting, the more it felt as if it was calling to him, not in the literal sense, but in the way that he continued to walk, regardless of the fact that he was afraid. Sitting down on one of the chairs that sat behind the board was a surreal feeling. One that he could never imagine until it happened to him. There were no pieces, only the black and white board that was intertwined with the concrete of the table. But this would not be the first time that he snuck to sit by the board, however the last time wouldn’t be too far away either.
It was only when March had turned to April did, he learn the name of the game which met his fascination for the past few months: chess. And it was only when the summer winds began to hit the nights of Moscow did his jacket that was now too tattered to call clothing in, the first place, finally fell apart. It had been a long time since Dmitri had taken off his jacket. But as the first few days of June knocked upon his door Dmitri was left to stare at his arms which were now caked in a deep black dirt.
i know this isn’t a completed work but i hope everyone enjoyed what they read 🙂
