Inn the End

Date: 7/22/2000
From: Tigs

The hand put the tiger figurine back on the board and chuckled at it's flight of fancy. Far too much lately these figurines had seemed to take on personalities of their own. Some of the pieces seemed to exude a strange unexplainable anger others seemed like old friends. The pair of hands slowly picked up two more pieces. The black piece was the figure of a young boy, in his early teens. The face was innocence and mischief in one. The cloths fit more into the days of Inns and knights. It was a stable boy. The other was a strange silver figurine. A lyre complete with silver strings rested against a sheathed sabre. Carefully they were both placed back in their respective squares.

Soon enough the hands were at a keyboard and eyes scrolled through the words lighting up a screen. The fingers fairly flew over the keys as some things were quickly discarded and others commented upon. Occasionally the hands rested. They knew that things were winding down. The eyes looked at the game board again. It really was a beautiful creation. When it was first presented to the owner of the hands many hours of pleasure and fun had been derived from it. The owner of the hands had attached personalities to each figurine, even its own.

Occasionally pieces had been removed or fallen off. Some peices seemed to be the perfect counter for another. There had been the glowing beret with the numbers "119" emblazoned on it that always found its way to the side of the cricket bat. The owner of the hands smiled at the romance that had been attached to the two pieces. Some things in life were more fun when a story was attached. The hands left the machine and found their way back to the board, back to the figurines. How long would the rest of the pieces stay on the game board? Already three more had been removed to boxes and sent out to other collectors. The hands carefully wrapped brown paper around a box of silver figurines. A purple sharpie flew across the space in the center as a name and address were placed properly. It went onto the stack. For others had heard of the game and wanted to start their own.

The thought was that the collectors could all play together like they had once played other, less cruel games. The game hadn't always been cruel. When the owner of the hands had first begun it had been a time of intellectual exercise, creating new friendships, honing dormant skills. Now it was something with an undercurrent of anger; a feeling of rage was suffusing it causing more damage to some pieces. The hands picked up the tiger figurine and lifted it even with the eyes. It was a beautiful piece--the owner's favorite. To the owner the figurine represented all the aspects of a real person; to others the figurines represented soemthing that could be toyed with and tossed aside into a box of discarded things. As the piece was placed next to the magician, the small terrier, and a lost woman (her face contained a sadness that no humans ever could) a voice whispered, "choices made, choices played. New game."

~Tigs~

©Tigs 2000

Bravo

Date: 7/22/2000
From: HurriKain

To the master of descriptive writing! :-D
Great Job

HK

Wow

Date: 7/22/2000
From: Sabre_Edge

This story is heady. Very very interested to see how this turns out. Keep it up Tigs.

SE

Wonderful.....

Date: 7/22/2000
From: SouthernSlider

writing, wonderful story - yet sad. Good job, Tigs.

SS

I normally don't comment on stories ..

Date: 7/22/2000
From: Stax_

posted on the board but I have to assign praise in this instance . I could rattle off a list of overused superlatives but it wouldn't to justice as a reply to this story . This is the type of material that would inspire one to write themselves . Tigs , I can only hope that you are working on a novel or something .stax

Much praise to you, Tigs!

Date: 7/22/2000
From: DoctorQuinn

That was inspiring! Really, that was GREAT!

The good doctor

Deep Thoughts

Date: 7/23/2000
From: dellyone

Tigs,

That was wonderful. Such deep meaning from simple words. Again another piece of excellent writing.

dellyone

All I can say. . .

Date: 7/23/2000
From: Stoker_chick

Is that I love a challenge of the mind, and choices are the most difficult of such. Thank you for writing this. I'm sure there are many more who read and respect your writing, and just do posess the compassion to write a reply. I pity them, because they are missing out on complimenting one of the few intelligent pieces of original literature written in a while (not to neglect some varied intruiging articles posted by other posters, just that I feel Tigs deserves a lot of credit).

Remind me to stop staying out so late. I think it's starting to catch up with me. GAME OVER.

Peace out.

Stochi.

And so it ends...
Date: 7/24/2000
From: EustiSlider

but I'm sure it's just a matter of time before we read something else just as spectacular from our favorite bard.

--Eust

Original URL http://www.scifi.com/bboard/browse.cgi/1/5/545/22259
Nominated by EustiSlider