Gemotions

He moved the chess pieces with deliberate slowness, each decision carefully considered. The checkered board was spread across the worn table, the sunlight slanting across the dust motes dancing in the air. The faint sounds of the television downstairs filtered through the floorboards.

The news of the college’s closure echoed in his head, a discordant note in a symphony of quiet calculation. He paused, his fingers tracing the outline of a knight. He’d played chess here, in this very room, for decades.

His opponent, a nervous student, shifted uneasily in their chair. He took a sip of water, then took the piece. "Checkmate," he said softly, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips. His world was always defined by the next move.