[...] Minor regrets, like asking that woman Margaret whether she played chess, horrible, and major regrets like declining or rather failing to say anything at his own father’s funeral. Major regrets like devoting his life to competitive chess only to watch his rating drop steadily over several years to the point where, etc. He’s been over all that before, the irretrievability of the past, what’s done being done, and now is not the time in any case. Instead he’s going to eat the small chocolate bar he brought with him in his suitcase and drink a cup of coffee. It’s good to visualise these actions in advance, how he’ll unwrap the chocolate bar, what the coffee will taste like, whether it will be served with a saucer or just in a cup by itself. These are the right kinds of things for him to think about at this moment: precise things, tangible, replete with sensory detail. And then the games will begin.