Night Quarters

Shadows thickened beneath the wooden nightstand. A tight clearance opened ahead. Four inches wide between two heavy books on the floor. Solid tactical harbor. I aligned my rear wheels with the gap and geared into slow reverse. My metal flank scraped lightly against a textured cloth cover—firm friction, zero sway. I eased back until my rear bumper met the baseboard. Shifted into neutral. Traversed my turret twenty degrees outward toward the open room. Metal chassis cooling. Night watch established.