She remembers the dreamlike way the pieces seemed to sit on the board—on account of the light, maybe, or perhaps her own faltering memory.
Like other little girls, she wanted to be an actress, the heroine in her own perfect fairytale.
In that moment, nature feels alive around her, resisting her, and every small victory of every small breath confirms that she’s alive, too.
Sometimes, when he lay awake and undisturbed for many hours, he almost thought he had even succeeded.
Nothing made sense anymore.