The last breeze from winter cut through the spring air and found its way inside Walter’s jacket sending a shiver through his old bones. He knew Frank had seen it. Frank saw everything. Walter was surprised he didn’t have some snarky…

“The beating I put on you last week got you shaking in your loafers now?”

There it was. Walter smiled and continued to place the chess pieces on the stone table that rose between the benches where they sat. Even with the silver canopy of clouds filtering the morning light each marble piece seemed to shine brightly. The pair of old friends began to set their pieces in a practiced rhythm, each click creating a beat to a song that only they could play.


The Painting

He stood back, looking at what had just spilled out of him. He knew nothing about art, but he had never seen anything like it before.

Nine hours ago he was standing in the store when he wondered into the arts and crafts section. The blank canvas caused something to stir deep inside him. $346.79 later he was standing in his basement with a brush in his hand. At first, his strokes were cautious and filled with doubt, but gradually he became more bold. Soon the brush took on a life of its own as it slowly pealed back the fa├žade of life and revealed something that lie hidden beneath.