The Spinning Dial

I stalked across the chilly tile until my front limb struck the cold metal rim of a bathroom scale. When I leaned my weight forward, a muffled click popped inside its belly, and a red dial beneath the round glass window spun wildly. I froze, but nothing struck back. Deliberately, I lifted two limbs off the tile and brought them down hard onto the ribbed rubber mat. The needle jerked clockwise with a sudden creak of internal springs. Instead of bracing against it, I rocked back and forth, transferring my bulk from one limb to another, watching the red line twitch obediently beneath the glass with every shift.