• Vol. 01
  • Chapter 09
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“One More Game, Alright?”

Ronnie Sinclair and Mick Doyle looked down at the chessboard in worry. Trust their cunning old buzzard of a grandfather to still be good at chess at 87 years of age. “Flaming’ Nora!” Doyle exclaimed as Sinclair glared at his set of chess pieces as though their had done him some great personal wrong. Their wizened and wooden teeth wearing grandfather Don Doyle roared with laughter as Sinclair reset his side of the board as the afternoon sun dipped down glowing orange.

Glaring at his grandfather’s mirth-ridden face Sinclair growled “One more game, alright you old stoat?” Grinning like a madman Don nodded and said to the worried younger Doyle “5 euros I win Mick”. Mick eyed the now enraged Sinclair and shook his head. “Not a chance in Hell Grandpa, I want to be able to walk in the morning” he said quickly. Don merely grinned.