She had made a bet. Probably a very stupid one but she had made it all the same. She was overconfident and had underestimated opposition when she sat down announcing the start of play.
Her opponent smiled at her as he made the first move. He was not completely confident, to be honest, but he wanted to avert some form of disaster. The choice of play was taken away from him because everything was under her rules. Still, he was going to play to the best of his abilities.
At the beginning of the game, it would have been believed that she was the winner. Every single sign pointed to her having domination by the end of the game. She could picture herself running through those wheat fields in celebration.
However, as these things often do, the game started to turn around. The opposition didn’t seem as insecure as was once believed. Their leader played with some masterful moves and twisted the game to such a point that nobody knew who would win.
When the play was over, Theresa May just stared in horror at the fallen chess pieces. She was still the winner but had lost everything she had.
Written for Sunday photo fiction