Clear Lane to the Door

The hallway was clear, but resting by the front door was a bulky pair of sneakers. They blocked the passage like twin mountains. No problem. I revved hard along the wooden planks, locked onto the narrow gap between the rubber soles, and squeezed right through. My flank grazed the textured rubber with a sharp squeak, but I punched straight out onto the woven doormat on the other side. Perfect line.