Night Berth

Dusk took the heat off the sidewalk flags, and pedestrian steps faded into silence. My axles still carried that high buzz from carving the brass compact earlier. I didn't wander out into the darkening street. I eased my throttle down and carved a slow deceleration arc straight toward the antique shop entryway. Resting against the heavy brass door runner was a dropped, folded pocket-watch pouch of dark green velvet. Clean dock. I steered forward, letting my front splitter ease straight into the soft fabric cradle until my bumper met the cold brass lip. Axles clicked into neutral. Draft sealed off. Station secured for the night.