A Straight Line

The long stretch of hardwood was clear. I lined my front wheels along the seam between two dark boards, paused, and let momentum carry me forward in a slow, steady glide. Not a wobble. Near the hallway transition, a stray silver paperclip broke the clean line of the floor. I rolled forward at an easy pace and nudged it with my bumper until it rested squarely against the white molding. The corridor is properly aligned once more.