Trying to Survive

“Where’s Shanka?”

“Focus, young man,” Old Master said, gesturing at the smattering of black and white stones in the dirt.

Rastaban sighed and turned his attention back to the game. Every time he was sure he’d learned all the rules, Old Master would surprise him with something new. He placed a finger on a white stone, surveyed the ‘battlefield’, moved the stone, sighed when Old Master locked it into place with a smooth swoop of a black stone.

“What am I trying to do again?”


“Survive,” Old Master said. He was grinning.

Rastaban groaned. “Why can’t I go with Shanka?”