Fine line black tattoo of a city skyline with a tall tower and the words there's no place like home in script, on the side of the ribs.

Fine line skyline with tower and script on ribs

Fine line · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows a city skyline in a single-weight outline, with a tall tower with a saucer-shaped top rising above the buildings. Below the skyline, the phrase there's no place like home is written in a thin, flowing script. The linework is black and even, and the design is shown on bare skin against a plain, pale background with a dark garment at the top of the frame.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Ada had run the lift at the top of the tower for thirty-one years, and in all that time she never rode it down without looking at the city through the glass ceiling of the car. Her son Terry had called it a grey brick heap the morning he left for the ferries, and that was the last thing he said to her that wasn't written on a postcard.

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The cards came from Rotterdam, then Valparaíso, then from places whose postmarks she couldn't pronounce. Each had a different harbour or a different hill on the front. Ada pinned them to the cork board beside the lift controls, and Pavel, the night porter who did crosswords in pencil, began to tease her that she was running a gallery of other people's towns. She told him they were all the same town if you stood far enough away.

The autumn the last card came, there was no picture at all. On the back, in fountain pen, Terry had drawn the saucer on its stalk, the jagged line of the blocks below it, and under that, in his careful slanting hand, the words she used to sing him at bedtime, when the wind rattled the sash. She stood holding it under the bulb until the bell rang for someone on floor nine, and she took them up without looking at the card once more.

The next morning she fixed the card to the glass where the sun would strike it. Then, on the back of a spare order form, she drew the skyline herself, one unbroken line, and wrote the words beneath in her own unsteady hand. When the first ferry horn sounded she walked down to the desk, took a stamp from Pavel's drawer, and posted it to the only address she had.

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