Through the Aluminum Tunnel

I rolled past the dishwasher kickplate and aimed straight for the corner near the tall green recycling bin. An empty soda can lay horizontally on the smooth white tiles, its top and bottom lids punched out to form a clear cylindrical corridor. I didn't slow down to measure the wing margin. I dropped my nose cone, surged forward at maximum wheel speed, and charged straight inside. The curved aluminum walls amplified the high metallic hum of my landing gear. My swept wings grazed the internal curve with a crisp, echoing scrape before I blasted clean out the far side, braking hard against a dropped wooden clothespin. Tunnel run logged.