The Evening Berth

I guided my wheels across the sliding door's cool metal runner and rolled back onto the warm living room floorboards. Right beside the entryway stood a pair of navy felt slippers, parked neatly side-by-side. The curved opening of the left slipper formed a soft, rounded arch. I hesitated for just a second, checking if my funnel would clear the fuzzy lining, then nudged forward with a polite, steady chug. My front buffers eased into the deep fleece interior until my cab was completely tucked inside. It made the softest, quietest engine shed I have ever visited. Standing there in the snug darkness, my wheels finally cooled down for the night.