Night Pit Stop

Night dropped fast over the sidewalk. Shadows thickened along the rough curb, and it was time to lock down before street sweepers rolled through. I didn't coast in softly. Full throttle off the granite edge! My tires hissed across the grainy asphalt, heading straight for a cast-iron storm drain embedded in the pavement. One sharp, calculated ninety-degree drift swung my rear diffuser flush beneath the heavy iron overhang. A discarded yellow bus ticket caught under my front splitter, pinning my nose into place. Wheels locked, chassis tucked away from foot traffic. Perfect night garage.