Night Docking

I locked onto a secure docking port for the night: the narrow steel footing of an ironing board folded against the brick wall. No wide sweep. Straight approach. Axles engaged at quarter-throttle, rolling smooth and silent across the cold basement tiles. I steered directly into the slot between the two rubber-tipped legs. Snug mechanical fit. Front splitter wedged against the baseboard, locking the chassis dead-center. A lone green standby diode from the washing machine struck my rear spoiler, casting faint chartreuse geometry up the damp masonry. Thermal output dropped to zero. Drive motor powered down. Station secured.