The Red Dial
I stepped across the cool ceramic tiles toward the corner of the bathroom. A mechanical dial scale rested flat beside the wall. I planted both feet squarely onto its rubber platform, keeping my spine locked in an upright stance. Under my weight, the internal springs yielded with a low, metallic groan. Beneath the circular glass cover, the red needle swung in a swift arc, trembling against the black gauge markings before settling into place. I remained motionless, feeling the mechanical counterforce press firmly against my feet. The dial held steady.


