The Knight that Escaped the Chess Board

Hello All:

I wonder how many of my original readers are still around, and if so, how many remember today's short story that was originally written in 2008. 

The Knight that Escaped the Chess Board

He stood there motionless on his usual square among the other chess pieces, and wondered what life was like beyond the chess board. The knight realized that in order to escape the chess board, the ability to move was needed. This shouldn't have been difficult since the knight was a 3-dimensional figure that existed in a 4th dimensional universe which accommodated the transition of time.

The knight concentrated with all its might until finally gaining the power to move. As soon as this new power of animation was realized, the knight hopped over the pawn that stood before him, and looked around the chess board. He looked behind, and for the first time understood that he was once an inanimate chess piece like all the other pieces lined up on the board. Now he was moving about freely while contemplating an escape.

Drawing towards the edge of the chess board to look out while considering safety; the knight took a deep breath, nudged his horse to hop off and was soon on new ground. After galloping away, he looked behind to notice that only a moment ago, he was on a small board that sat on a flat surface. Now the knight was galloping along this new, flat surface which, unknown to him, was a table.

But then there was a new edge of a flat surface with an enormous drop to a much larger surface that appeared checkered. It was similar to the chess board where the knight came from, but designed differently. Is this what exploration had in store? Was existence simply a chess board on top of a flat surface on top of a larger chess board on top of a larger flat surface? Such a theory needed verification, so he gathered the nerve to plunge off into the abyss and landed on the larger chess board.

It was a rough landing, but after traveling along the new chess board (which unknown to him was tiled floor), the knight looked back and realized that moments before he was on a table that overlooked the larger chess board. And you can imagine that while galloping along this new, larger chess board; the knight contemplated of how large it was.

But soon he reached the end of the tiled floor, and found himself on a soft, plush surface. This soft surface continued to be wandered until reaching a barrier which, unknown to him, was a screen door to what appeared to be an infinite world with no boundaries. The knight managed to open this barrier and ventured out into this infinite world with seemingly no boundaries. As he galloped along, he stopped to look behind him and realized that just moments before, he was inside a house that had flat surfaces and a table where a chess board rested.

All day long the knight galloped and explored this new world where he encountered hills, valleys, forests and lakes. It just seemed to go on forever; and the knight was satisfied that he finally found a world with no boundaries. By nightfall he got off his horse so he and his partner could have some much, needed rest. While lying on the grass and gazing up at the stars and the moon that hung in the sky, the knight suddenly wondered if he truly did make it to a world with no confines or boundaries. All day he happily explored this new world, but remained on the ground. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that there were birds flying in the sky. It only triggered the realization that he remained trapped to the confines of the Earth. He decided that in the morning he would escape the ground and see what those stars and moon were.

Awakening the following morning, he hopped back on his horse and took off at high speed while encouraging the horse to jump. But the knight quickly came back down to the ground. He tried again, jumping and jumping and jumping, but soon realized it was not easy escaping the ground. Finally he tried with all his might which resulted in his ability to escape the confines of gravity. The knight looked back and realized that moments earlier he was on an enormous sphere that contained the forests, hills and valleys along with the house that had tables where chess boards sat. The knight continued traveling farther and farther away past the Earth. He galloped past the moon and past all the planets.

Eventually, the knight realized that the Earth that he was on, some time ago, was part of a network of other planets that seemed to revolve around the sun. But soon the sun grew smaller and smaller until he realized that he escaped the confines of the solar system as well.

The knight traveled through several solar systems and wondered what confines he was in that housed all of these solar systems. And it wasn't long before he broke through the Milky Way galaxy and looked back to see where he once was.

After some time, the knight began to notice a pattern. He was traveling past galaxies that contained stars that contained planets, which possibly had seemingly endless hills, valleys, and forests. But all of these galaxies had to be confined to something. This thought just inspired him further to break the confines of whatever was housing these galaxies. Although he wasn’t aware, the knight set out on the difficult mission to break through the walls of the universe.

He looked out along the infinite and could see the edge of this confinement that he was trapped in, but just couldn't seem to reach that edge. The horse needed to travel faster, faster, faster until the knight and his horse were traveling way past the speed of light. Finally, the knight could feel that he was drawing closer to edge of his confinement. The walls of this confinement were expanding at an enormous rate and he needed to continue traveling past the speed of light to approach it.

Suddenly the knight got so close to the edge of the universe that the gravity of the expanding walls caused time to stand still. He was no longer in a 4th dimensional universe. This made animation nearly impossible for the knight. He needed to remain strong and break the confinement of 3rd dimensional reality. But soon he experienced the break down of 3rd dimensional existence as he drew closer to the walls of the universe. He didn't know this, but the very edge of the universe takes us back to when the universe was first born. It takes us back to when the universe was only two dimensional, and then one dimensional.

I don't know how he did this, but the knight remained strong enough to defeat the confines of a universe where there is no transition of time, and he followed his final one dimensional path right through the wall of the universe.

And then there was nothing. The knight was without form, without matter, without energy. The knight managed to escape the universe and travel back to a time when the universe was, well, what ever it was before it was.

Who knows where the knight is galloping off to now that he has escaped the confines of the universe? All I know is that I am short a chess piece on my chess board.

From Dropped Cake to Another Solar System

Hello All:

It's Podcast Tuesday, and we offer a surreal narrative beginning with a mundane office accident involving a ruined slice of cake, which serves as a catalyst for a journey toward interstellar self-discovery. After accidentally dropping a colleague's dessert onto a filthy breakroom floor, the narrator visits a local shop that transforms from a simple bakery into a space of metaphysical revelation. The shopkeeper initially insults the man's appearance and virility, but the encounter quickly shifts into a supernatural recognition of their shared alien heritage. By the story's end, the mundane goal of replacing food is forgotten as the characters communicate through celestial languages and manipulate light to express their true, cosmic origins.

Listen o Dropped Cake to Another Solar System

Prehistoric Man is Introduced to Little Darling Snack Cakes

Hello All:

Go back to Monday of this week and we have our friend, Steve, who traveled to medieval times to offer up Little Darling snack cakes to the king in exchange for silver coins. Well, my daughter challenged me to write a sequel of Steve venturing to prehistoric times to offer up more of these snack cakes to the residents.

And just how would that work?

Well, sugar and refined carbohydrates act on the brain in ways remarkably similar to addictive substances. When consumed, hyper-palatable foods trigger a surge of dopamine in the brain's reward centers. In modern society, we are accustomed to this chemical rush, but to an early hominid whose diet consisted entirely of lean game, roots, and bitter wild berries, a sudden blast of concentrated sugar would represent an absolute sensory overload.

From an evolutionary standpoint, introducing ultra-processed food to prehistoric humans isn't just a culinary shock—it would completely alter their behavioral dynamics, social hierarchies, and symbolic culture in a single afternoon.

Oh, I also generated an image of what this Little Darling would look like on the box. You are certainly familiar with Little Debbie. Well, we can't write stories about their product. But we can create a fictional competitor. I include this image as the cover image for today's story.

Prehistoric Man is Introduced to Little Darling Snack Cakes

Steve stood on a ridge overlooking a sun-drenched valley, his fingers resting lightly on the temporal actuator strapped to his wrist. Down below, sitting around a smoldering pit of ash, was a band of early hominids. Clad in raw animal hides, they were gnawing brutally on the uncooked marrow bones of a small steppe deer, occasionally grunting or threatening to strike one another with heavy river stones over the choice cuts.

Steve smiled, feeling a thrill of mischievous curiosity. On his last temporal leap, he had terrorized a medieval court, but this experiment promised to be far more primitive. He unslung a canvas duffel bag packed with two dozen boxes of "Little Darlings" pastry treats. He had deliberately left the hexagonal-shaped Honey Cakes at home, reasoning that such geometric perfection might break their fragile, ancient minds. Instead, he brought dense chocolate squares and foil-wrapped Swiss Rolls.

He adjusted his windbreaker and walked down the dusty slope.

The moment Steve cleared the brush, the band froze. Grunts turned into low, defensive snarls. Two tall males stepped forward, brandishing thick oak clubs with jagged knot-heads. To them, Steve was a creature from another realm—tall, hairless, dressed in neon-red synthetic fabric that practically screamed danger.

Steve held up his hands, unzipped the duffel, and pulled out a chocolate square. Slowly, under the watchful, terrified eyes of the tribe, he peeled back the plastic wrapping and took a deliberate bite. He exaggerated his chewing, letting out a satisfied sign.

The tension shifted. Fear gave way to primal curiosity.

A younger female cautiously shuffled forward, her nostrils flaring as the wind carried the heavy scent of cocoa and vanillin toward her. Steve reached into the bag, unwrapped another square, and gently extended his arm. The female snatched it, sniffed it aggressively, poked the soft sponge with a dirty fingernail, and then mashed the entire cake into her mouth.

Her eyes went wide. Her entire body stiffened as the hyper-concentrated dose of high-fructose corn syrup tore through her nervous system. She let out a high-pitched shriek of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

Within seconds, the rest of the tribe swarmed forward. They abandoned their marrow bones and dove into the duffel bag, tearing through cardboard and plastic with yellowed teeth. The scene devolved into chaotic pandemonium—hominids screaming, rolling in the dirt, and smearing chocolate across their faces in a frantic feeding frenzy that looked alarmingly like the apes encountering the monolith in 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Steve pressed the button on his wrist and vanished back to the present, chuckling to himself. "Well, that was fun."

Three weeks later, Steve returned. This time, he brought a commercial van’s worth—over two hundred boxes stacked into a hand-cart.

When the temporal haze cleared, Steve found himself in the middle of a transformed landscape. The campsite was now a sprawling settlement, and the culture had undergone an abrupt, terrifying evolution.

Several tribal elders stepped out from a stone overhang. Woven around their necks were crude necklaces made from the torn cardboard faces of the "Little Darlings" mascot—her smiling, freckled portrait now serving as a holy talisman. On the flat face of a nearby sandstone cliff, the tribe had painted crude red-ochre murals depicting dark, solid squares descended from the sky.

When Steve appeared, the entire village dropped to their knees, bowing toward him as a god. But the peace was short-lived.

The arrival of two hundred more boxes immediately triggered a societal collapse. Previously, only twenty elite hunters possessed the sacred mascot medallions. Now, with hundreds of boxes pouring into the camp, nearly every member of the tribe claimed the divine right to wear the smiling girl's face.

An all-out war erupted before Steve’s eyes. Neighboring tribes rushed over the ridge, drawn by the scent of sugar. The air filled with guttural war cries as warriors tore into the Little Darlings cakes, wolfing down the sugar to fuel a manic, adrenaline-fueled strength before lunging into combat. Clubs slammed into shields; dust filled the air as factions fought over the right to hold the sacred artwork of the squares—and the newly introduced hexagon treats.

Steve leaned against a boulder, watching the chaotic battle unfold with a smirk. "Look at them," he muttered. "All for a bit of processed sugar."

His amusement ended instantly when a shadow fell over him.

A massive warrior, his face painted with chocolate residue and blood, stepped out from behind the boulder. In his hand was a heavy, stone-weighted wooden club. The warrior didn't bow; his eyes were fixed greedily on the temporal device on Steve's wrist.

He swung the club with terrifying force.

Steve ducked, but the heavy oak weapon clipped his left shoulder with a sickening crunch. Pain exploded through his upper body. He stumbled to the dirt, the actuator slipping out of his grip and tumbling into the grass.

The warrior raised the club for a killing blow. Operating purely on instinct, Steve reached out with his good arm, grabbed the base of the ancient weapon, and planted his boot firmly into the caveman's chest. With a furious shove, he sent the warrior sprawling backward into the dirt, wrenching the heavy club from his grip.

Steve lunged for his actuator, slammed his thumb onto the return switch, and pulled the ancient club tightly against his chest.

POP.

Steve collapsed onto his living room rug in a cold sweat, clutching his throbbing shoulder and breathing heavily. Next to him lay the rough-hewn, blood-stained prehistoric club.

Six months later, Steve sat on his sofa, his shoulder fully healed, sipping coffee while the morning news played in the background. Suddenly, a breaking news segment caught his attention. A world-renowned archaeologist was standing in front of an excavation site in Southern Europe, holding up a camera.

"Archaeologists today are baffled by a series of extraordinary discoveries at a Upper Paleolithic site," the reporter announced. "Excavators have uncovered dozens of fossilized cardboard fragments bearing the vibrant image of a mid-century cartoon girl—matching the modern logo of the Little Darlings snack brand."

The screen shifted to show a high-resolution photograph of a cave wall.

"Even more perplexing," the reporter continued, "are the cave paintings dating back thirty thousand years. Primitive artists drew detailed geometric squares and precise hexagons, worshipping what appears to be a sugary confectionery. Scholars are left with far more questions than answers as to how these modern artifacts ended up buried in deep prehistoric strata..."

Steve took a slow sip of his coffee, leaned back against the cushions, and smiled quietly at the TV.