Baptism through the birth canal, we enter the world with basic needs and instincts of survival. Introduction to schoolyard play comes rather quickly; games for fun, innocence and laughter. Though we’re crafty creatures and our innocence is shed, swift as fallen leaves from autumn trees.
Manipulating the games to suit our affections and garner power, we learn to live. Schoolyard days dissolve into dalliances of our teenaged years. Then life begins to flourish, and we become absorbed in our diversions, subterfuge.
I’ve my pawns in life as on the board, but I’ve become blasé with the pastime of it all. A skilled opponent keeps my mind sharp, but his wife keeps my bed warm at night.
“Well, my friend, seems as if you’ve beaten me again.”
Indeed I had. Though, he hadn’t any honest clue to what I’d actually won.
It’s all charades: one word, one syllable, four letters—Life.
© Grace Black
Written for Flash! Friday Micro Fiction Contest