It wasn’t loud anymore. The board had been flipped once, maybe twice. Pawns missing, pieces chipped, rules bent. But even in that ruin, the game endured. A steady hand returned to the board, not to restore what was lost, but to make the next move. Quietly. Without fanfare. People asked questions. Why bother? What’s the plan? Where does it go from here? But no answer came. None was needed. Because the ones who truly play already know. They read the board. They wait. They know that even with chaos all around, a well-timed move changes everything. Things change one move at a time.
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Category: Alt National Park Service