Date: Fri, 9 Aug 1996 18:20:30 -0500 From: Robbi Happy Birthday Susan Garrett. I know this doesn't mean anything and really doesn't go anywhere, but I hope it gives some entertainment to you. . The Game by Robbi Egersdorf They sat facing each other, both afraid to be the first to move. He tried not to think about how long they had been doing this. Neither could remember the original reason they sat, it had just become sort of a tradition. The hard seat of the table chairs were becoming harder by the minute. he thought to himself and still he would not move. Neither the warm temperature of the room nor the lateness of the hour registered. There was only the game. Nothing else existed. The cramping of muscles and joints had to be endured, subdued with superhuman effort in order to continue the game. He had not understood at the beginning and still there was no understanding forthcoming . The only draw to participate had been the feeling of importance he had sensed from the one who sat across from him. He could be all kinds of other places involved in much more interesting and satisfying activities. Still, here he sat and continued the game. He struggled to push the rebellious thoughts from his consciousness. They would only serve to break his concentration, a concentration he had gained with centuries of practice. It had been hard in the beginning. He had caused his opponent to endure numerous fits of temper. He turned his attention to study the familiar face he had seen so many expressions play upon down through the years. In the last year, there had been only sadness and guilt. He knew they would only bring him eternal despair. How often he had wished to abolish these from existence, but he had no power to do so. The power rested with the one who wore them. He could stand the immobility no longer and stood from the chair with such force, he nearly sent the chair flying. Instead, it stayed upright, rocking precariously. His opponent turned his eyes from the game to the standing figure, looking into his face. Attempting to sit back into his mode of concentration, he turned back to the table and the game. Try as he might, he could not separate his thoughts from the one who paced. His mind continued to turn back to the imposing figure as he circled the room. His eyes followed the trail of his thoughts and flew back to the black crispness of his opponent's garb. He sighed in resignation of the futility of the task he had set himself to. "You know I can't concentrate when you pace." The deep resonance of his voice broke the echoing silence that had fallen around them. The figure stopped his frantic circuit of the too large, too empty room. He turned to look at the table once again. Just the thought of sitting, immobile in that chair put a sneer on his lips. Nicholas sat back in exasperation. "I see you have taken all you can stand for one night. We can do this again some other night." "Same time next Tuesday?" the smooth as silk reply came from Lacroix. "That would be fine," came the answer from Nicholas' full sensual lips. Upon the gratefully received reprieve, the other was gone. He moved at a speed difficult for even Nicholas' vampiric senses to track. He picked up the chess board from the table and set it in its customary place where it would not be disturbed. "No wonder this game has gone on for over three centuries." end Robbi Knightie Long Live the Knight egersdor@magiclink.com