Zero Point Zero

I slipped between two towers of washcloths and found a sleek glass bathroom scale resting flat on the tile. The second my bare feet hit the cool glass, it gave a tiny beep and glowing red numbers flared to life right under my toes! I peered down, expecting a huge number, but it just read "0.0". That was rude—I'm sturdy! I planted both hands on my hips, jumped as high as I could, and stomped down hard. The glass clacked against the floor, but the screen stubbornly flashed "0.0" before fading to black. I couldn't help letting out a bubbly giggle at my own stubborn zero.