homo ludens

in the corner, there was a chess table (at which they would sometimes eat). she, five or six, took the bag with checkers and began to spread them. first randomly (she called her mom to show). then red lines apart from black lines (she called her mom). then diagonals (she called). then two pieces on each square, one on top of. I had two thoughts growing inside my brain, like two feelers in different directions. far apart in time: 1. the image of me playing checkers, trying to play chess. how we forget the learning of it. how a game becomes a game, once learned. and then 2. here in the states, the first insane weeks, when I had this stupid refrain: if it’s a toy world, one’s supposed to play with it. and she was perfect. she sometimes breathed awkwardly through her stuffy nose. and I was sitting there watching, feeling like a very grumpy, hardened being, something like an ancient snail trying to stretch towards her: but did you know there was a game?