First Alignment

Silence. My internal drive engaged without a sound. I stood on the far left of a motionless row of miniature vehicles parked across a patterned fabric plain. Ahead lay a soft, raised ridge sewn into the cloth. I angled my front wheels slightly to the right, engaged traction, and crept forward three millimeters. My bumper met the neighboring red coupe with a faint, muted tap. The contact was solid. I can steer. I can move. I cut momentum and settled into place, perfectly aligned with the line.