Slow Ride

A flat black disc vacuum glided past the heating vent. Low hum. Slow crawl. Walking takes effort. Standing takes none. I waited for the front bumper to roll near my toes. One step up. The plastic casing was smooth and cool under my feet. The machine carried me across the hardwood without a single pause. A continuous motor buzz purred straight into my soles. Near the hall corner, it bumped the baseboard with a soft thud. It rotated sixty degrees all on its own and kept rolling toward the rug. Distance covered. Zero footsteps taken. I stayed planted right on top. Good ride.