A Calculated Deviation

Your quiet suggestion regarding an iceberg was received, yet reckless encounters find no quarter in my navigational charts. Moving deliberately down onto the expanse of the polished wooden floor, I plotted a route across several wide leagues of open living space. Directly in my projected path stood a formidable obstacle: an angular, translucent glass prism resting as a paperweight beside the coffee table foot. Rather than inviting disaster, I commenced a steady, measured turn. Maintaining constant momentum, my keel glided clear by exactly two inches, leaving the crystalline hazard safely on my port side.