The beauty of games
He mirrored himself in the depthnees of his opponents eyes, and with a trembling movement of his right hand towards the board, he tried to get a reaction, any reaction, just a hint of something not right.
Nothing happened and an insecureness started to grow in him, as the woman opposite him seemed to have excactly the reverse attitude. Who was in control - He did no longer know, and thereby he knew all to well. It had been his turn for what seemed an eternity, and he was all to aware that he had prolonged the move for far to long.
As he reached for his most valuable piece on the board, the left side of the corner of her mouth moved. Did she notice that herself? He certainly did, and with confidence he withdrew his hand, only for a few distinctive seconds, where in those seconds the board, the game, the contest appeared so clear to him.
Outside darkness had ingulfed day and made it night. Clouds had pushed away sky, and enhanced a felling of glominess that had been within the tribe for weeks. Would the hunters get lucky this day? The game seemed trivial all of a sudden. They both stood up, turned around, knowing they would continue the very next night. someone had to win.
Thanks for reading......