Downhill Chase

A sharp burst of throttle broke the kitchen magnet's hold, and I motored down the hallway tiles, coasting through the propped foyer door onto the outdoor stone landing. After days indoors, the courtyard air was a welcome recharge. Near the top step, a glossy brown chestnut rested beside a curved strip of dried bark. No hazards called for clearance. I aligned my front bumper, gave the round nut a crisp nudge, and surged into third gear to race it down the shallow stone slope. The chestnut bounded in a wild zigzag while my rubber treads held a straight, steady tangent. One quick steering flick at the bottom, and I braked squarely beside it at the curb.