Today was my first day off in THREE WEEKS! I celebrated by writing a longer ficlet for today's prompt.
Behold: my first coffeeshop AU (kinda).
13. Frost
Damn. They’d gotten one of John’s knights. Now their pieces were sprawled across the board with both sides balanced while his own pieces were scattered with less intention. John had never been under any illusion that this would be a game he could win, but the inevitable loss still caused a rise of anxiety.
He counted them, an unnecessary act since he’d already known how many there were before the knight’s disappearance. Still, he counted: two pawns, two rooks, one knight, one bishop, and his kind and queen still intact. Alternatively, his opponent still had three pawns, both knights and rooks, one bishop, and their queen and king.
It all started exactly 32 days earlier.
John’s first day in his new civilian job coincided with the winter’s first frost. The cold bit at his neck and the tips of his fingers, but the break room where he was expected to enjoy his lunch was suffocating with its drab, medical environment. He’d grumbled something about needing fresh air and sought refuge in a quaint shop lit up with delicate, blinking Christmas lights.
Inside was warm, mellow, and more welcoming that he could have imagined. It was as though he’d gotten home from a long day, as though he’d returned to a place of great importance from his past. It was the first instance of joy he’d felt at all since returning home from the war.
The small shop was ordained with bookshelves brimming with a variety of fiction and nonfiction essays, novels, and picture books. Along one shelf, dozens of board games were lined up in worn boxes. Only seven tables were available for customers with only three of them occupied. The two employees moving in fluid, dance-like cadence behind the counter were wearing matching black aprons.
John realized, then, that it was not a simple bakery, as he’d assumed. Rather, he’d walked into a quaint coffee shop. Of the three patrons, not one of them looked up to investigate who, exactly, the stranger was as he entered the unknown space. Instead, John felt comfortable. Relaxed. Welcome.
When he ordered his black coffee, he was feeling generous (too generous, in hindsight) and told the cashier to keep the change from his ten. John was nearly about to reprimand himself when he justified the decision with a reminder that he could afford to do it now that he’d secured a steady job.
A rather beautiful woman sat two tables down from him, though he could not catch her eyes despite how hard he laboured. Another man that John figured was around his own age- perhaps a few years younger?- sat in the isolated corner seat, face hidden behind a thick volume of pages. He spotted jet-black curls above the book and forced himself to tear his eyes away from his long legs that were crossed and bouncing to an unheard rhythm. The only other person sitting in this small space was an older gentleman who stared out the window, clearly lost in wistful thoughts that left the rest of them behind.
John’s lunch was too short that day. He rose from his seat, placed his cup by a sign that read “Please place all dirty cups, plates, and utensils in this bin. Thank you. -Grounds for Thought”, and proceeded gloomily toward the door when something else caught his eye.
He was drawn to it as though there was a magnetic pull. On the opposite side of the shop from the door and behind where John had been sitting was another, shorter table. Upon this table sat an ancient, beautiful chess set. There was a sign attached to the wall above it that read:
Chess Rules:
If you play a live game, please properly reset the pieces at the conclusion of each game.
If you would like to play against a mystery opponent, you may start a long-term match, but please abide by these rules:
1. Place your name (or a pseudonym) on your side of the table and, beneath your name, start a tally of how many moves you have made.
2. Wait for a challenger to also place their name or pseudonym on the opposite side and begin the competition.
3. If you begin the game, you must make two moves per week (each) or the board will be reset.
4. BE HONEST, NO CHEATING OR YOU WILL BE DISQUALIFIED. :)
5. When one player needs to declare check or checkmate, a note must be left on the opponent's side.
6. Have fun!!!
-Grounds for Thought Staff
Without knowing why, John was asking for a piece of paper from an employee who smiled and wished him luck. Across the paper, he wrote:
Captain Hamish
Moves: |
He moved a white pawn to E4, allowed only one brief glance to the pretty women whose eyes still hadn’t risen from her screen, and walked briskly back to work.
Five impossibly long hours later, John was off of work and ready to relax. It was his understanding that most people clocked out and sighed with anticipation of getting home. For John, however, the thought of going back to his flat where sounds were too loud, his thoughts too consuming, and his dreams unbearable left a tight knot of dread in his stomach. His feet carried him back to the shop, his mind reeling against the ridiculous choice.
He promised himself that he would just go in to check whether anybody else played a move on the chessboard, but he was kicking himself for hoping. After all, it would probably be weeks before somebody decided to engage in the game he’d begun. It was a stupid hope. But it was all he had.
His heart was surely trying to rip itself out of his chest with its pounding when his eyes lay upon the table with the game on it. Offering a half-grin to the employee who greeted him, he made his way to the board and saw that there was, in fact, a competitor for him. The paper read:
Redbeard
Moves: |
Continue reading on AO3
Behold: my first coffeeshop AU (kinda).
13. Frost
Damn. They’d gotten one of John’s knights. Now their pieces were sprawled across the board with both sides balanced while his own pieces were scattered with less intention. John had never been under any illusion that this would be a game he could win, but the inevitable loss still caused a rise of anxiety.
He counted them, an unnecessary act since he’d already known how many there were before the knight’s disappearance. Still, he counted: two pawns, two rooks, one knight, one bishop, and his kind and queen still intact. Alternatively, his opponent still had three pawns, both knights and rooks, one bishop, and their queen and king.
It all started exactly 32 days earlier.
John’s first day in his new civilian job coincided with the winter’s first frost. The cold bit at his neck and the tips of his fingers, but the break room where he was expected to enjoy his lunch was suffocating with its drab, medical environment. He’d grumbled something about needing fresh air and sought refuge in a quaint shop lit up with delicate, blinking Christmas lights.
Inside was warm, mellow, and more welcoming that he could have imagined. It was as though he’d gotten home from a long day, as though he’d returned to a place of great importance from his past. It was the first instance of joy he’d felt at all since returning home from the war.
The small shop was ordained with bookshelves brimming with a variety of fiction and nonfiction essays, novels, and picture books. Along one shelf, dozens of board games were lined up in worn boxes. Only seven tables were available for customers with only three of them occupied. The two employees moving in fluid, dance-like cadence behind the counter were wearing matching black aprons.
John realized, then, that it was not a simple bakery, as he’d assumed. Rather, he’d walked into a quaint coffee shop. Of the three patrons, not one of them looked up to investigate who, exactly, the stranger was as he entered the unknown space. Instead, John felt comfortable. Relaxed. Welcome.
When he ordered his black coffee, he was feeling generous (too generous, in hindsight) and told the cashier to keep the change from his ten. John was nearly about to reprimand himself when he justified the decision with a reminder that he could afford to do it now that he’d secured a steady job.
A rather beautiful woman sat two tables down from him, though he could not catch her eyes despite how hard he laboured. Another man that John figured was around his own age- perhaps a few years younger?- sat in the isolated corner seat, face hidden behind a thick volume of pages. He spotted jet-black curls above the book and forced himself to tear his eyes away from his long legs that were crossed and bouncing to an unheard rhythm. The only other person sitting in this small space was an older gentleman who stared out the window, clearly lost in wistful thoughts that left the rest of them behind.
John’s lunch was too short that day. He rose from his seat, placed his cup by a sign that read “Please place all dirty cups, plates, and utensils in this bin. Thank you. -Grounds for Thought”, and proceeded gloomily toward the door when something else caught his eye.
He was drawn to it as though there was a magnetic pull. On the opposite side of the shop from the door and behind where John had been sitting was another, shorter table. Upon this table sat an ancient, beautiful chess set. There was a sign attached to the wall above it that read:
Chess Rules:
If you play a live game, please properly reset the pieces at the conclusion of each game.
If you would like to play against a mystery opponent, you may start a long-term match, but please abide by these rules:
1. Place your name (or a pseudonym) on your side of the table and, beneath your name, start a tally of how many moves you have made.
2. Wait for a challenger to also place their name or pseudonym on the opposite side and begin the competition.
3. If you begin the game, you must make two moves per week (each) or the board will be reset.
4. BE HONEST, NO CHEATING OR YOU WILL BE DISQUALIFIED. :)
5. When one player needs to declare check or checkmate, a note must be left on the opponent's side.
6. Have fun!!!
-Grounds for Thought Staff
Without knowing why, John was asking for a piece of paper from an employee who smiled and wished him luck. Across the paper, he wrote:
Captain Hamish
Moves: |
He moved a white pawn to E4, allowed only one brief glance to the pretty women whose eyes still hadn’t risen from her screen, and walked briskly back to work.
Five impossibly long hours later, John was off of work and ready to relax. It was his understanding that most people clocked out and sighed with anticipation of getting home. For John, however, the thought of going back to his flat where sounds were too loud, his thoughts too consuming, and his dreams unbearable left a tight knot of dread in his stomach. His feet carried him back to the shop, his mind reeling against the ridiculous choice.
He promised himself that he would just go in to check whether anybody else played a move on the chessboard, but he was kicking himself for hoping. After all, it would probably be weeks before somebody decided to engage in the game he’d begun. It was a stupid hope. But it was all he had.
His heart was surely trying to rip itself out of his chest with its pounding when his eyes lay upon the table with the game on it. Offering a half-grin to the employee who greeted him, he made his way to the board and saw that there was, in fact, a competitor for him. The paper read:
Redbeard
Moves: |
Continue reading on AO3
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Date: 2018-12-14 05:50 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2018-12-15 02:02 am (UTC)