Night Express Under the Table

Clomp, tap! Across the plush wool carpet I trotted, heading straight beneath the low wooden coffee table. Night transit in progress! But right in my lane sat a stray plastic television remote control, lying face down on the carpet. Detour around it? Not on my route! I stepped boldly over the rounded edge, planting my wide front foot directly onto its smooth battery cover. Skrrrt! The sleek plastic slid an inch forward on the rug pile like a miniature sled. I shifted my weight, planted my rear foot firmly beside it, and coasted to a halt right between four sturdy wooden table legs. Route complete, headlights off!