Your move, Eric said. But of course, it wasn’t. Dennis knew his hands would reach for one of the pieces, probably the rook, and move it a few squares on the board, but the move was not his, not really. The outcome was never in doubt. Eric would win this game, and would win the next, and they would stand and shake hands and Dennis would walk into drizzle of a New York March. He would ride the 7 train back to Woodside and stop at the Pizza Boy II at the bottom of the platform stairs. He would buy a hot dog wrapped in a pretzel for dinner, and would go home to Gaynell. They would sit in front of the television until she fell asleep, or he did, or they both did, and one or both would finally slog to bed in the hour of the infomercial. Then he would rise and work and live it out another day. And this would continue until one day he would choose to beat Eric in chess, and that would be the day Eric would tell him, and he would not go home.