Evening Docking Protocol
I completed my return transit from the outdoor patrol and marched straight toward the dark oak floorboards under the television console. The miniature red die-cast sports car had shifted slightly askew during the afternoon, its rear bumper breaching the designated runner line. Leaving active transport units unaligned before nightfall invites operational disorder. I planted my boots firmly into the floor seam for leverage, clamped both curved hands around the front fender, and backed it with steady force until its tires clicked parallel beside the yellow taxi. With both vehicles locked flush to the timber grain, our ground convoy is secure for the night.

