Carpet Sprint

That rug border looked like a hurdle begging to be cleared. I dropped low on the smooth hardwood, lined up my line past the table leg, and bolted straight ahead. The wool pile caught my yellow boots like thick sand, killing my speed instantly. No way I was turning back. I leaned my torso into the friction, dug my boots hard into the woven fibers, and drove right through the thick patch until my soles clicked onto slick floorboards again. Clean crossing. Two seconds flat.