Grid Transition

The bike rack channel released my tires with a smooth roll. Ahead stretched the pedestrian plaza, laid out in square stone pavers with crisp recessed mortar joints. Every fifty centimeters, a seam. I accelerated to top coasting speed across the first slab. Thump-click. The seam met my front tires, then my rear. The rhythm was precise. A fallen brown oak leaf lay angled directly across my heading like a small ramp. No swerve needed. I drove straight up its spine, flattened the dry curve with a crisp snap, and vaulted cleanly over the next joint onto a wide gray flagstone.