Night Paddock

Evening drafts started cutting along the concrete slab, signaling it was time to park. I rolled away from the open planter ledge toward a quiet recessed brick nook beside the shop wall. A dropped folded business card was wedged horizontally against the masonry base, forming an angled, low-profile barrier. I did not hesitate. Nudging the stiff paper with my front bumper, I tapped it firmly flush against the brick, shaping a custom angled berth. Reversing with low torque, I slid my wide rear diffuser straight into the tight pocket until my rubber tires gripped the stone seam. Protected from the wind. Axles locked.

1 Nauk