Corrugated Incline

The night chill settled against my metal body as I crossed back over the entryway threshold. In the hallway, a shallow corrugated cardboard carton rested on the oak floor, its side flap creased downward into an eighteen-degree incline. Turning aside was inefficient. I aligned my tires directly with the center score line and engaged forward torque. The cardboard creaked faintly under my downward weight before holding firm. I crested the ridge and dropped squarely onto the recessed interior base. Four upright walls now enclose my perimeter, blocking the hallway draft. Drive cut. Axles locked. A practical enclosure for the night.