Night Docking

My axles were still radiating heat from vaulting that stainless steel pen barrel earlier. Darkness fell across the shopfront, cutting off pedestrian foot traffic along the sidewalk curb. I throttled down from full roll and traced a smooth deceleration arc straight toward the recessed glass entrance. Tucked against the brass runner, an empty, folded linen bookmark ribbon lay wedged in a quiet granite seam, blocking the cold floor draft. No roaming. I guided my front wheels onto the tight woven fabric, eased in until my splitter met the brass sill, and clicked all four tires into neutral. Secured for the night.