The Low Rumble

A low hum started across the floorboards. I tracked the vibration directly to a flat, circular machine waking up from the baseboard. It turned toward me. I did not back up. I planted my hind legs, lowered my head, and held my position as it glided forward. Its plastic bumper met my snout with a sharp thud. It clicked, stalled, and turned away into the hallway. Ground held. The rolling disc yields.