That evening I felt the way one does when chance throws people together and they begin swapping stories, only we did not begin swapping stories. The air was full of expectation. The strange surroundings had thrown everyone out of their comfort zone: one of us bore it more lightly, without constraint; others masked their discomfort with a feigned lightness; and there was one, too, who plainly wanted no part of any of it. Everyone busied themselves with something, and two sat down to play chess.

– Follow the signs! – said one of the players, the taller one.

– Oh, I don't even notice the signs, let alone follow them! – his younger partner's attention had wandered: one piece fewer…

– Then learn to see the signs! Read them! – it was born authority speaking in the taller one. Simple words, but to the point, and you can feel that he not only says this but lives it. – Reading the signs is a great science. Whoever thinks it simple prostitutes the subtler processes. Only what stands at an elementary level becomes popular. That is the curse of being easily understood. And yet it is said that one must pick up gold even from a dunghill. That is what the clever man does.

I began to pay attention, but as though I were only glancing this way and that. The others no longer interested me, and I was following not so much the game of chess as the conversation.

– And is it certain that I would read the signs rightly?

– No, that is not certain at all. But it can be learnt. That is still only technique. If you are purified, however, you will also see. You see the signs in others, in your own life, on different levels.

– The signs in others?

– Yes, you can read people's lives. Fate is written into faces, into the movements of the hands, and whoever understands this language can read people's stories. Both those written on their faces and those that smiles or narrowed eyes try to hide. The unspoken ones, too.

– What do you read in me?

– Come now! That is not a good question. But if you are curious, look into yourself! – a look within, once more one piece fewer…

– Reading the auspicious or ominous signs, you understand which way you must go – his voice hovered somewhere in eternity. It was as if he were an otherworldly guide of souls, whose aim is to lead his charge back from the pits of the underworld into the light. And he, the born authority, had the strength for it, too. – Everything is ordained – this piece too… – and with that he elegantly took it off the board.

– That too – that I shall lose if I carry on like this? – asked the player, anxious about his dwindling pieces.

– Come now, it is only a game… though many hold chess to be an image of life, for a move here on the board, or in life, has its consequences all the same, and the good strategist is more likely to win…

– Then I am a bad strategist – the younger player observed with a smile.

– More calculation – victory, less calculation – no victory. In this game one side wins and the other loses, but in life it would be good if everyone won…

– Is it possible?

– In the longer run, perhaps, there is no loss. But for that the signs must be read well. If we mistake the surface for the depths, it leads nowhere. Everything has a simplified version, and the real, the serious version exists too. What does a quick and easy recipe solve? A half-truth is worse than ignorance.

In the lamplight the pieces slowly dwindled on the chessboard, and ever longer silences held sway over the twilight hour. With every move, closer to victory.