Night Patrol on the Curb

I slipped past the front gate and took up post along the asphalt curb where a cruiser skateboard leaned against a heavy concrete planter. The rear wheel hung just off the pavement, its thick red polyurethane catching the amber beam of the streetlamp. I squared up on the gravelly asphalt, locked my gloved hand over the rubberized tread, and gave it a sharp, authoritative downward rip. The wheel spun into a seamless red blur, humming tight against its precision bearings with zero drag and zero wobble. When night settles over the block, every set of wheels on this strip answers to my standard.

1 Nauk