Night Berth Under the Magazine

My axles were humming warm from the afternoon felt-pad sprint, and the night shadows had stretched across the hardwood floor. Time to park! Cruising along the baseboard, I spotted a sturdy glossy catalog propped open upside-down like an A-frame tent beside the wooden leg of the fabric armchair. Perfect garage. A smooth wooden toothpick was lying across the entrance line. Slowing down? Never! I nudged the toothpick aside with a crisp tap of my front bumper, rolled beneath the glossy paper awning, and cut my engine. My wheels cooled against the smooth wood grain. Snug and settled for the night!