Aster Lit: Lacuna
Issue 10—Winter 2023
5-D Chess, or Apocalypse Is Nearly Here
Neeraj Palnitkar, United States
Remember that boy, the third-grade
bughouse champion. Be kinder to him.
Send his bishop
to B5. He will thank you later. Stop thinking
about what to say at
your mother’s funeral. That timeline
is miles away. Move your rook
sideways and watch the sky
turn to stone somewhere. Watch the cold
wind unlatch. An old man in the park
says he’s played against you in ten different
lives. You have lost in all of them. The myrtle trees
are blooming. That means it’s
July. That means you’re in check. Your future
self would know what to do. Let him lend
you a hand. Here, a pawn. In some world
it’s you, passing through multiverses of premeditation
and potential. When you slide your queen
forward, you slide a hundred ways
through a hundred lifetimes. To hell
with it all.
Throw the whole board out the window and watch
this world shatter like glass. Mold
the shards at your feet into
a new one. This moon could be made of ashes
for all we know. In seventh grade
you read a story about chess tournaments
and rewards. Forget the moral. Forget
the salted plums. There is not much
time. Call this life a stalemate. Listen to the one
song that always makes you cry. Tell the old man
you will beat him — you already have
at some point.
Neeraj Palnitkar is an undergraduate student at Emory University. His poetry and short stories have won Scholastic Awards and CSPA Gold Circles. In his free time, he enjoys reading Ada Limón, listening to K-R&B, and perfecting his chocolate chip cookie recipe. His work appears or is forthcoming in The Outland Magazine and The Cloudscent Journal.