Close-up of a black lettered tattoo reading BITE ME on the skin below a lower lip, with red-painted nails holding the mouth open.

Bite Me lettering on a lower lip

Lettering · Other · Black and grey · Photo

A close-up photograph of a small black tattoo reading BITE ME, set on the skin beneath the lower lip. The lettering uses simple, slightly uneven capitals in dark ink, with the letters spaced evenly across the width of the chin. Fingers with red nail polish hold the lip open, and the warm, saturated colour grading gives the photo a vintage feel.

Lettering Other Text Lip

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Brannoc's wife had been told by the seed-wardens that nothing would fruit on the cold side of Kettle Ridge, so she planted the sapling anyway, in the lee of the wall where the wind came off the salt pans and turned everything bitter. It took three winters to show a single blossom. By then the village had stopped asking what she meant by it, though she had nailed a board to the trunk and painted two words on it in black, uneven capitals, because the seed-wardens' chart had no name for the variety.

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The fruit came hard and green and sour enough to make the goats shy away. Children dared each other to bite one and spat it out on the path. Brannoc's wife would not pick them. A sour thing left alone would sweeten by itself if you gave it time, she said, and a sweet thing rushed would rot. Oriel Vane, who kept the bell-rope at the chapel, said that was an excuse, loudly enough that the whole square heard it.

In the spring the frost cracked the bell, and the ringers could not get the rust off the lip of it with oil or sand. Oriel came to the orchard wall with her sleeves rolled, reading the board as she came, and she did not laugh. She climbed the ladder, took the greenest fruit she could reach, and rubbed it along the broken metal until the rust went pale and the air smelled of cut grass.

She came down with her mouth puckered and her eyes wet. The old woman was already at the gate with a basket on her hip. "Well," Brannoc's wife said, "now you know what the words are for."