A Matter of Clearance

A fallen paperback book lay sprawled half-open across my line of march. It formed a rigid triangular roof, sloping down to the floor. Bypassing it was out of the question. I evaluated the apex. Clearance was sufficient. I throttled forward in measured cadence, driving directly beneath the pitched paper incline. The front edge brushed my funnel with a dry, rustling scrape, but my weight held the course. I rolled steadily through the miniature tunnel and emerged on the other side, schedule fully intact.