The Arm

She kept pushing it in.

The arm wouldn't move. I heard

the soft rejection, the small click

that meant no.

She tried again, different angle.

Same result. Her shoulder tensed.

The crowd behind me tensed.

We all stood in the tunnel

waiting for something to change

in the laws of the thing.

The machine didn't care.

Neither did the arm.

She tried a third time and I watched

her fingers shake on the card.

Watched her read something

I couldn't see. Watched her

accept the no and try again.

The arm stayed locked.

Her hand stayed on the card.

My breath stayed tight.

Then something. A pause.

A sound like the machine

was thinking, like it had

reconsidered, decided to let her through.

The arm moved.

It moved and she was through

and I was next and the arm

was metal and hinged and

it let me go.