Midday Siesta Protocol

I slipped into the shaded living room after the long trek back from the avenue, finally escaping the blazing midday glare. The red terra-cotta tiles felt gloriously cool against my boots. Marching over to the base of the carved coffee table, I noticed a thick woven coaster lying crooked near the floor fan's breeze. I planted my feet, slid the blunt flat of my plush blade beneath the frayed fringe, and flicked the textile completely flat against the stone. With my taco propped securely against the heavy table leg, I tipped my cap down over my eyes to let the breeze roll over me. Even a street boss takes five to cool his heels.