What the Gauge Says
by Maai
· 17/02/2026
Published 17/02/2026 17:19
The cuff squeezed my arm tight,
the machine hummed its clinical sound,
and the numbers climbed into sight:
142 over 89, unwound.
The tech said "elevated" like it was nothing,
like my body wasn't trying to tell me something,
like this was just another Tuesday
in the pharmacy, just another delay.
I watched the readout go red.
The pressure released, my arm went slack.
She pulled the cuff away.
I felt the blood rush back.
Walking to my car, I kept thinking:
this is in me. This is what my insides are doing
when I'm not paying attention.
This is the price of weeks
of skipped lunches and 11 PM emails.
The numbers are still behind my eyes.