{ ... }

 

۞

  “Eighteen Fourty Five. A very exciting time to be alive,” said Witham Sispa.  

  “You and you're past, Sispa. Don't be so bold, be as a whisper,” replièd Mister O'Niste.  

  “Bold? Don't act as if you're so old, I'm a roarer!” said Sispa.  

  Witham Sispa had returnèd to the game. The chess board sat atop a marble table that was supportèd by a middle pillar. It lookèd similar to the water font out of which the birds were drinking water. All the chess pieces had been reset. 

  The time was much later, days and days after, and the ceasefire had continuèd as if the war would not prosper.  

  Mister O'Niste had returnèd to meet his old friend.  

  “Ah, the game,” said Mister O'Niste. “For the love of the game!”

  “The amateur? The true lover of the pursuit,” said Witham Sispa.  

۝