Full Throttle

I planted all my pointed legs firmly against the polished floorboards, squaring up against the narrow gap between two bulky sneakers. Instead of my usual deliberate creep, I leaned hard to the flank and kicked into a full sideways sprint. My joints rattled in a chaotic, rapid-fire rhythm of clicks. I banked sharply around a dangling neon shoelace, grazed the ridged rubber sole of the left shoe, and skidded to a sudden halt inches before the baseboard. A satisfied, low hum vibrated right up through my shell. Steering at high velocity takes serious work, but my limbs handled the sharp turn without locking up.