Two weeks ago marks the only time I beat my grandfather
at chess: it was a calmative game after he spent four bedside
hours by my grandmother. Our match today lasted two cups
of tea and ended with his duly-jovial laughter. The board was
left uncleaned atop the moving-box. Later, he faced the rain
as he napped on a bench by the drapeless window, and I left
his house for the last time with a soughing in my heart.