Close-up of a hand held over a sunburst electric guitar, showing a small solid black guitar silhouette tattoo on the back of the hand.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Electric guitar silhouette on the hand

Hand · Black and grey · Photo

A hand is spread open over a sunburst electric guitar with a white pickguard, on a wooden plank floor. A small, solid black silhouette of an electric guitar sits on the back of the hand, drawn with filled shapes and no shading. The warm, filtered photograph is centred on the hand and guitar.

Hand Guitar Hand Silhouette

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The bandstand at the Palais had been painted so many times that the boards had lost their grain, and Ray Costello stood on them with a borrowed guitar hanging low against his hip, waiting for the drummer to finish the count. Nobody expected much from a lad with a second-hand instrument and a cough from the November damp. The bandleader had already told him twice to keep his hands off the tremolo arm.

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The first number went wrong in the way only a dance hall lets it go wrong, couples turning in their own small worlds and nobody looking at the stage. Then the bridge came, and Ray stopped trying to be clever. He played the three-note figure he had been humming all week on the number 9 bus, a stubby thing that climbed like someone going up a staircase in the dark. The floor noticed. A girl in a green frock stopped dancing with her partner and looked up at him as though he had said her name.

After the last set, the bandleader paid him in cash and a warning. Ray sat on the back step by the bins with the guitar across his knees, counting coins against the lamplight, when the girl came out carrying two cups of tea from the urn. She said the riff had sounded like a telegram from somewhere better. He said he would write it down if she told him where that was. She laughed and sat beside him, and the tea went cold between them while the band packed up behind the door.