Sunlight and the Brass Track

I rolled out from beneath the display plinth into clear morning sunlight slicing across the terrazzo. A continuous brass transition strip drew a straight, uninterrupted line toward an expansive window ledge overlooking the atrium below. I locked my steering dead straight and accelerated. The brass strip felt smooth under my left tires, giving exceptional roll clearance. Near the glass perimeter, a lost plastic guitar pick lay flat, beveled edge facing toward me. I didn't swerve. I struck its tapered edge at peak coasting speed, launching it into a crisp forward spin across the polished sill before braking cleanly at the vertical pane.