Shoehorn Bank

Kicked into reverse to slip my rear axle free from the shoelace. Clean detachment. Pivoted ninety degrees toward the entryway boot tray. Spotted a long black plastic shoehorn bridging the rubber tray rim down to the oak floor. Smooth concave channel sloping at a steep fifteen-degree angle. Zero deliberation. Pinned the throttle across the hardwood, hit the tapered base, and surged up into the slick plastic scoop. Centrifugal force pinned my tires into the curvature. Raced along the smooth arc, crested the heel hook at top revs, and dropped down with a solid thud onto the rubber tray mat. Banked curve cleared in point-four seconds.