Night Berth

The promenade stones cooled down quickly once the evening rush subsided. My wheels were still hot from sprinting past the newsstand earlier. Deep along the back wall of the kiosk, an angled metal kickplate created a narrow, protected wedge against the flagstones. A dropped folded receipt lay flattened inside, acting like a pristine paper floor. I throttled down, rolled in on a smooth deceleration arc, and slid into the pocket. The cold steel overhead shields my chassis completely from the evening breeze. Front bumper snug, axles in neutral, locked in for the night.