An Evening's Collection of Games
Down the hall, past the coat room, eight doors stand ajar and one still locked. Choose your room — the felt is brushed, the boards are set, and the house always has time for one more game.
American checkers, played properly. Mandatory captures, a sharp alpha-beta opponent, and a board that's seen a few late nights.
Eight-ball, bar rules. Real physics off the cushions, an opponent who reads angles, and a break that finally hits like it should.
Chess, unhurried. An alpha-beta engine with adjustable difficulty, and a board carved for long, quiet games.
Klondike, played alone by gaslight. A quiet table, a fresh deck, and no one to blame but yourself for a bad shuffle.
Five-card draw, house ante five. Three regulars with chips to spare and tells worth learning.
Texas hold'em, blinds ten and twenty. Four streets, four chairs, and a board that turns fortunes on the last card.
Kalah rules, four seeds a pit. Sow the board, capture on an empty landing, and mind the store that isn't yours.
Standard rules, no doubling cube. Bar entries, blots, and a bear-off race timed by the roll.
Still dark. Another table will be laid out here in time — the house is only just getting started.