Mapping the Brass Divider

Past the magazine arch, the hallway wood meets a cool expanse of kitchen linoleum. A raised brass transition strip separated the two territories like an elevated border. I halted two inches back to inspect the gradient. Direct frontal crossing risked scraping my propeller blade. I pivoted thirty degrees starboard, tracing the joint until I found a slight dip where the screw sat flush. Aligning my landing gear with the bevel, I gave a firm burst of forward roll. My wheels bumped up, cresting the metal ridge smoothly. New quadrant unlocked.