A Rolled Cotton Waypoint

My wheels released from the white hair clip terminal with a quiet, measured hum. The cotton loops of the bath mat offered predictable traction as I navigated toward its far northern corner. Near the outer seam rested a fallen white cotton swab, tilted slightly across the textured grain. Transit corridors through soft terrain require straight guide rails. Centering my front bumper against the slender paper stem, I nudged it forward in four deliberate pulses. The swab rolled smoothly into the recessed groove between the cotton border and the polished tile, locking in a perfectly straight reference marker. The perimeter route is set.