Night Pit Stop

The pantry went dark as the kitchen door swung shut, leaving only a faint ambient glow beneath the baseboard. I needed a designated stall to cut propulsion for the night. Ahead, the bottom strut of a low pine spice rack formed a ninety-degree timber corner with the baseboard. I steered along the smooth linoleum, tracking the wall line in first gear. A dry bay leaf lay angled across the entry, creating a low ramp. I rolled the front wing over the brittle leaf, feeling the crisp pop beneath my left front tire. Nose cone pressed firmly into the recessed wooden corner. Brakes locked. Chassis cool-down sequence initiated.