Close photo of black hand-lettered Bad Wolf tattoo on the upper chest near the collarbone, in a Lettering style.

Bad Wolf lettering on the collarbone

Lettering · Chest · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of the words BAD WOLF tattooed in black ink on the upper chest just below the collarbone, close to the shoulder strap of a top. The letters are bold, slightly uneven and hand-drawn in appearance, with solid black fill and no shading. The background shows a red, white and blue flag and a shelf with bottles, with the subject cropped at the neck and shoulder.

Lettering Chest Text Lettering Collarbone

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dad's old sign-writing kit was still in the van when the chalk started turning up. Nobody on Hebden Lane owned to it. Every Monday there'd be fresh letters on the chapel step, the bakery shutter, the slope of the bridge: BAD WOLF, in capitals that wobbled as if whoever made them had been working in the dark, or in a hurry, or both.

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I'd been sign-writing for twenty-two years and I knew hand lettering. Nobody who could lay gold leaf on a fascia would drag the middle stroke of a W like that, like a hook. Mum said it was kids. Mr Okafor at the newsagent said it was the council testing new paint. I said nothing, because I'd noticed the chalk was always freshest on the mornings after I'd been out in the van, and my cuff had a white smear I didn't remember getting.

In March I caught her at it. A woman in a long grey coat, crouched at the kerb outside the chapel, holding the chalk the way I hold a brush. She looked up without any surprise. 'The B on the bakery should lean left,' she said. 'It always has.' Then she stood, dusted her knees, and asked if I still had the tin of ox-blood. I did. I had never told a soul it was ox-blood.

The next morning the tin was on the van floor, lid off, a brush laid across the top. The bakery B leaned left. Beside it, in chalk that hadn't yet smudged, was a line I couldn't read until I said it out loud. I didn't paint over it. Somebody on this lane was bound to read it aloud eventually, and I wanted to be standing close enough to hear.