The two old men sat in the shadow, at the bench between the paddling pool and the climbing frame. The only game being played in the park was chess.

“Stuck?”

“What makes you say that? It never does to rush these things…”

“You haven’t changed, have you? You still don’t have the courage to take the bold moves.”

“Surely you’ve known me long enough to know I don’t take risks?”

“These days you don’t even seem to care about the game. You’ve lost too many times I suppose.”

“Well. I wouldn’t worry yourself friend. It’s only a game.”

“Oh but come on! I didn’t ask you to throw your pieces away!”

“Excuse me?”

“Check! Find your way out of that one!”

Silence.

“You always were good at chess. Is it the winning that does it for you? The thrill of the endgame? Is it worth it?”

“Don’t be sore about it old man – just a game, remember? You can’t win when you’ve given up…”

“It’s not about giving up. It’s realising when the sacrifice isn’t worth it any more. What does winning mean? Everybody loses in the end.”