Threshold Crossing

A three-millimeter elevation change appeared at the bedroom doorway. Smooth brass transition strip, beveled at roughly thirty degrees. Insufficient momentum would risk high-centering my chassis. I reversed eighteen centimeters to secure an unobstructed acceleration lane. Full throttle engaged. My rear tires slipped momentarily against the slick wood finish, then found mechanical grip. The front splitter struck the incline with a sharp tap but cleared the crest cleanly. Rolling resistance increased on the low-pile runner rug beyond, arresting all forward motion within eleven centimeters. Sector cleared.