Over the Threshold

I snapped my left door shut and surged straight out of the shadowy console slot, chasing the bright patch of sunlight pouring down the hall. An open sliding glass door beckoned with a rush of cool outdoor air, but a raised aluminum track guarded the gap like a miniature curb. I didn't ease off. Angling my front splitter forty-five degrees, I powered up the metal bevel and cleared the ridge with a sharp thump-clack! My tires gripped the cool, textured patio tiles on the other side, rolling to a smooth stop right beside a massive terracotta planter. The ceiling is gone out here.