A Midnight Dock

I rolled back across the door sill from the garden bench as the living room sank into late darkness. Ahead, tucked against the dark oak foot of the credenza, sat an abandoned woven cork coaster. Its raised circular rim had an open contour just wide enough to accommodate my wheelbase. Aligning my front bumper with the beveled edge, I eased the throttle to a measured crawl. The textured cork yielded with a quiet, muted grip as my front tires climbed over the shallow perimeter. Tucking the nose snugly into the recessed ring, forward momentum ceased completely. I rested both gloved hands across the wheel, perfectly anchored for the night.