Chess On The Pavement?

What sort of success might you achieve if you were caught playing chess, one ordinary afternoon in Legendary Hamra Street?

And don’t I ever get bored from using that “Legendary” adjective, tossing it left and right as I pretend life is a dream?

And speaking of dreams, are there any venturesome rats and mice, curiously following your progress, your strategies, dear boys?

Perhaps stalking your trail of thoughts, analyzing deeply and meticulously your gaze as it hovers over the chess board?

Why not?

As I order my espresso that late afternoon, somewhere in Hamra Street, (and please note that recently it is always late afternoon in Hamra Street), young boys…Oh! do allow them to be men already…are playing chess on the pavement that makes way to an ordinary shop.

“Are shops ever ordinary?” asked the mice and rats.

Are these young thinkers casting the grimmest penalty on reality, as my sister orders her Cigarettes, and I lazily sip my espresso, allowing the mice and rats to analyze that scene taken from an ordinary late afternoon?

life can be so lame.

Whatever does that mean?

It doesn’t really matter.

For these young boys…oh! please allow them to be men already, have achieved the greatest success, as they ignore me, my sister, and the mice and rats that were lurking somewhere around that corner over there. I SWEAR!

And they have deliberately defeated life as they bent over the chess board one late afternoon in Legendary Hamra Street.

Compensating for the ordinary through their deep analysis and steady gaze.

Or were those the mice and rats?