A person with arms raised outdoors, holding a microphone, showing black and grey tattoos on the forearm and upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Black and grey arm tattoos on a raised arm

Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A side view of a person with both arms raised above their head, one hand holding a green microphone and the other making a gesture. Several black and grey tattoos sit on the outer forearm and upper arm, with shading and outlines that are partly hidden by the angle and lighting. The background is an outdoor stage setting with a blurred city skyline and a speaker on the right.

Forearm Upper arm Microphone Arm

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Mum, I know you said not to write from the road, but the rooftop car park in Salford was the strangest venue I've worked, and I wanted it down on paper before the light goes. The council wouldn't let us close the street, so they built the stage on top of the multi-storey instead. Forty-one steel plates, a lorry that couldn't turn, and me up on the speaker stack at quarter to six with a roll of gaffer tape and a bad feeling about the wind.

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The wind came off the river and took every word the singer said and dropped it somewhere over the bus station. Gil, who has done this for twenty years, said the only trick is to stop fighting it. So at the second chorus we pulled the front fills back and let the crowd carry the top line. Someone at the barrier had a green mic cover out in the air and it caught the orange from the flats across the way, and I swear the whole rig glowed.

Halfway through the last song the left side cut out, dead. I was already walking towards the cable when the singer stepped up to the edge, arm stretched high, and held the mic out over the crowd without a note. Four thousand people sang the verse back at the sky. Nobody on the desk touched a fader. I stood by the cabinet with my palm flat on its cold side, listening to the city hum under it.

Afterwards I found the cable had been pulled out by a gust, the plug lying on the concrete in a puddle the size of a dinner plate. I've kept it in my coat pocket. I'll bring it home at Christmas if you want to see something daft I'm proud of. Love, Tom.