A Rolled-Up Departure

Balcony lounging was getting dreadfully domestic, so I squeezed beneath the balcony rail, hitched my brass keys to my belt loop, and slipped down the fire escape into the crisp morning street. Halfway past the laundromat, a wire laundry cart was parked on the slanted pavement, loaded with a freshly tied bundle of heavy white canvas sheets. Naturally, an inclined laundry cart is basically begging for an operator. I hopped onto the wheel axle, shoved that neon green bouncy ball right under the rubber brake wedge, and kicked down with both gloved heels. The latch popped with a dry squeak, and the cart gave a slow, glorious shudder before rolling five feet straight toward the curb. Outstanding getaway vehicle.