The Patient Pawn Is Waiting

Who is The Patient Pawn?

The Patient Pawn is there. And you wonder if others notice him.

You think about him. How he volunteers to do the menial tasks. Complacently, quietly. The cog in the machine that never needs to be oiled. He copies, he transcribes, and he waits.

You wonder why he does it. Why he volunteers. Is he afraid of being taken for granted? Would he mind if he were? You wonder if he enjoys taking the unwanted scraps of the tasks, left by society. And, somehow, you’re afraid that he does.

The Patient Pawn is the one there when you hope someone will be. He’s soft in his demeanor. Approachable, and yet opaque because you don’t. You don’t know him. Your friends don’t know him. And you don’t know if he has friends. He smiles nonetheless.

What could be underneath?

What if The Patient Pawn were cruel? What if he were strange? What if he wasn’t what you wanted him to be. You realize… what if he were human? What if The Patient Pawn were driven by carnal desires of hunger and lust? What if The Patient Pawn didn’t smile for other people’s benefit but smiled as the result of some strange machinery, deep within his cerebellum. Sick thoughts. Or misplaced thoughts. Or decadent thoughts.

You don’t want to know The Patient Pawn. You want The Patient Pawn to be you. To be better than you. To be all the parts of you that you like and all the parts that aren’t human. You want to be The Patient Pawn. The Patient Pawn just wants to be.

And so he waits.