“But a hard one to master. Every move you make opens a whole new world of possibility.”
Nora moved one of her knights. They progressed like this for a little while. Mrs Elm provided a commentary.
“At the beginning of a game, there are no variations. There is only one way to set up a board.
There are nine million variations after the first six moves.
And after eight moves there are two hundred and eighty-eight billion different positions.
And those possibilities keep growing. There are more possible ways to play a game of chess than the amount of atoms in the observable universe.
So it gets very messy. And there is no right way to play; there are many ways.
In chess, as in life, possibility is the basis of everything. Every hope, every dream, every regret, every moment of living.”
Eventually, Nora won the game. She had a sneaky suspicion that Mrs Elm had let her, but still she was feeling a bit better.
“Okey-dokey,” said Mrs Elm. “Now, time for a book, I reckon. What do you say?”
Nora gazed along the bookshelves. If only they had more specific titles. If only there was one that said Perfect Life Right Here.
Her initial instinct had been to ignore Mrs Elm’s question. But where there were books, there was always the temptation to open them.
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