Intermissions

We’re sat at a chessboard, HH & I. He plays black, I play white.

That was a year ago. More or less. Some of you may well remember. I brought us back here, temporarily, for a spot of roundness to the year, a spot of different scenery and a spot of damn fine tea. Plus I thought it’d give Womble a chance to regale in his astounding performance and let him concentrate on something else for a while. And then some; even I’m getting a headache just watching him trying to direct a rook with just a flipper.

So, while we wait for the slowest move in chess history – my pawn has time to write a will, having learnt to read and write first – I can reflect on the last time we came here. Womble discussed the many, varying faces of societies; me, the never-changing nature of history.
At this, the other side of three hundred and sixty five days(ish), I can admit that the faces, the “They” as Womble put it, have had their effect. Neither he nor I are exactly the same guys we were – literally true in his winged case. We became better by way of something unexpected.

“They” were kind.

Which is why the old, bitter, pre-meeting-his-future-self, “Nothing Changes” HH is sorely mistaken. We have changed, and we are better. It was one, mad and gloriously eventful year. I’m already looking forward to the next one.

“Ready for Round Two, Womble?”

“Quark-quark?” (Chess? Rap? Something new?)

I smile. “Entirely up to you.”

HH

*Happy New Year to all. We raise a Time-Twister-Elixir and Sasquatch Pill to you =]

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