Checkmate

Because of Sunday bus schedules I arrived at the movie theatre 45 minutes before I was due to meet my friend. Despite the grey day I decided to walk to Place Neuve. The place is a park surrounded be high black iron bars tipped with gold fleur-de-lis. Immediately inside the gate before the grassy area starts are giant chess pieces and checkerboards marked on the pavement.

The King and Queen pieces are thigh high, the pawns are knee high to a medium sized-man. On a day like that with the mist swirling I expected no one to be playing, but groups of men were standing around all the boards, hands in their pockets. One group stood out. A still young man had a mane of white hair. Another sported a Dali moustache. The pieces made a hollow thump as they were picked up and put down in different squares.

I watched, also with my hands in my pocket and my shoulders hunched to keep warm inside my duvet coat, until it was time to see Pride and Prejudice.

The movie was good, better filmed than the BBC, but Mr. Darcy should have been played by Colin Firth again and not the wooden Hugh Grant wantabe.

I decided to pick up my tram outside Place Neuve after the film and although it was almost dark, one group of men, Mr. White Hair and Mr. Moustache were still playing.

A young couple, very much in love, by their tender looks and touches, were toeing checker pieces around the board. She wore her hair under a boy’s cap. His flowed to his shoulders. It would have made a wonderful scene in a movie.