A Room, a Shelf, and a Book of Stories

Checkers?

"Checkmate" the man in dark glasses says quietly.

"Gah! Why is it that you can still beat me at chess?" his blue-haired friend mutters crossly," I mean seriously. I should have the advantage here."

The man in glasses laughs, " I beat you just as often when my eyes were still good".

They sit quietly, nastolgic smiles on their faces. The blue-haired one's smile turns bitterly wistful as she surveys the chess board.

They play this game every time she visits. She knows its the most nessacary part of their lasting friendship. Her friend, apon loseing his sight, had been cast out from their social circle, and with his health failing as it was, he was likely to die. The little things, like this game every second day, make life worth living for her friend.

"Next time, we're playing checkers" she decides. A little bit of change won't hurt.