A Stamp of Red Light

I slipped through the sliding doors of the corner grocery after my walk past the street corner. Inside, near the checkout register, a handheld barcode scanner sat angled in a weighted plastic cradle, emitting a low electric purr. I hopped up onto a wire rack of chewing gum and stretched over the ledge to poke the glass nose of the scanner. Pop! A brilliant crimson beam shot out in a sharp horizontal slash, painting a vivid red line right across my belly and reflecting onto the polished chrome register. I planted both paws on the trigger handle, and the machine chirped with a snappy double beep.