Daughter

photo by Damien Derouene

The little girl waited for his move. She knew he was not going to win and that all his struggle to win in the last few moves was laughable. But the man's suave manner was intriguing. That was not what she saw in people. People made fuss about their defeat while the winners made merry. World celebrated the winners only and losers were hushed into low profiles. That was how the world was. But, this man, despite knowing that he was going to lose, remained calm. He must be a saint, she thought.

And then it was time for the last move. He was checkmated. He lost the game. No, the worst was that he lost his only few bucks. All he did was smile, shake hands and go home like a gentleman.

When his daughter saw him, she came gamboling to him, and in an instant her smile faded, "Oh, I don't see my doll?"

He abased himself in front of her, he knew not how to splinter her hopes, though he did it almost every time.

"Sorry my employer did not pay me today. Tonight, my darling, we sleep without dinner."

His daughter was used to the cruelty. Of poverty. 

Written for Magpie Tales: mag 309