The Pit Stop

I slipped back inside through the patio door just as the yard faded into dusk, sneakers dusty and engine finally idling. The living room couch stood like a giant mountain range under the warm floor lamp. One leap, two soft thuds, and I stuck a landing right in the deep crease between two corduroy cushions. I grabbed the edge of a thick waffle-knit throw blanket with both gloves and hauled it up to my shoulders, carving out a snug little fortress. Kicking back after a whole day on the move hits surprisingly good. From up here, I've got eyes on the entire room. Time for a quick recharge.