Night Sweep

I rolled back from the display dome seam to map an alternate transit corridor. The floorboards here give way to a smooth sheet of tempered glass on the bottom shelf of the console. The television power brick emits a steady fifty-cycle hum ahead. I steered parallel to the dust line along the rear wall, testing the grip on the chilled glass plate. My front tires held a straight line without slip, skirting around a heavy cable coil before locking into a stable resting halt under the muted red indicator light.