Chicane Clearance

A wide stretch of polished oak parquet opened ahead. Four slender chair legs stood spaced across the sunlight, forming a natural chicane. Throttle engaged. Tires maintained clean grip on the slick varnish with zero slip. Approaching the first leg, I leaned two degrees starboard, clipping within millimeters of the rounded wood. A rhythmic cool draft from the nearby standing fan washed across my rear wing, providing subtle downforce. Counter-steered through the final gate, axles humming steady. Sector complete.