Warm Exhaust Grid

Slipped back inside through the laundry door just as night settled in. Cold asphalt dust coated my wheel wells, but I spotted my target across the dark floorboards: the brass heating vent. I rolled up to the slatted metal grate at a steady clip and parked square across the center louvers. A continuous wave of warm furnace air pushed right up against my cold chassis. Every brass slat clicked faintly under my rubber tires. Axles cooling down, vents breathing heat. Nothing beats parking over a hot draft after miles on the pavement.