This is another drabble! It is exactly 100 words. It was inspired by a photo from this Mete Özbek. I found it on 500 px. Enjoy.
A swipe of gloved fingers and my queen fell off the edge of the board.
Smoke rose, obscuring the board. But I knew what was what.
I picked up my bishop and knocked out the enemy’s knight. A harsh scream sounded in the distance, just below the cliff precipice.
I blew out a breath and the smoke faded just enough to let me see the enemy’s face. Dark, wet eyes, like drops of oil given life.
The enemy moved, a useless sacrifice of a knight.
I struck. The king fell into my palm, dead, cracked ebony.
Victory was mine.