I like chess. I entered exactly one contest, in Vizag, and played (and won) three games before being kicked out of the proceedings. I have played chess on and off, never really seriously, for years now. I don’t know any “tricks” or “strategies”. I haven’t read any books on chess. I used to play on my phone for a bit last year, but eventually stopped after I reached the stage where a lower difficulty on the computer was something I could always beat and a higher one I would always lose.
Then I came across an app called Pure Chess. It’s multi-platform, so you can probably check it out. It looks gorgeous. And the music that plays in the background is simply beautiful. I played a couple of games with the computer on the lowest difficulty. I liked the app. I then did what I usually do in cases like this: go read the reviews. And on one particular review, I found the following conversation in the comments:
It’s a nice self-contained narrative. (If you skipped all that, please go back and read just the last two messages). That thread could be a short story, or the inspiration for a novella. Nice as the thread was, I am more interested in how I came upon it.
I like that I “overheard” them talking. And I like that I can show you what I heard.
The name of my blog is Ephemera for a reason. These are things I know I will forget, or come to care less about, as time goes by. These moments are ephemeral, and I’m perversely reversing that innate quality by writing about them here. People always say you should be thankful for the little things. Or that you should notice the little things. Or whatever other suitably impractical things that they themselves have done maybe once or twice. Well, this is me doing that.
This was #16.