Black script lettering reading Fly With Me with two flying silhouettes and a small star, tattooed on a forearm.

Fly with me script and flying silhouettes

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo reads Fly With Me in flowing black cursive script across the forearm, with a silhouetted figure at each end of the words, arms outstretched. A small four-pointed star sits to the upper right of the right-hand figure. The ink is solid black with clean edges, and the photo has a warm, heavily filtered tone with a dark background.

Lettering Forearm Script Silhouette Flying figure Star Quote

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rain had been coming down on Carrow Street since eleven, and by half past two the only things still selling were the umbrellas and Mr Okonedo's hot chestnuts. I had a crate of kites under the awning, the cheap paper sort with tails of knotted ribbon, and nobody wanted a kite in weather like that. Then a boy in a yellow cagoule stopped in front of the stall and asked me, very seriously, whether a kite could carry a grown man if the wind was right.

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I told him kites were for holding on to, not for going anywhere, which is what my father told me, and he looked at me as if I'd just confessed to something. He said the second star to the right was the one you had to aim for, and that you only needed to think happy thoughts and let go of whatever held you down. I asked what held him down. He pointed at his school bag, then at the wet pavement, and then he gave me a coin for the smallest kite, a blue one with a crooked spar.

I should have sent him home. Instead I found a roll of gaffer tape and a spare length of ribbon, and we tied the kite to his wrist together while the rain thinned to a drizzle. The market lights came on one by one. A woman selling candles laughed at us, then came over to hold the ribbon steady while he ran down the length of the car park, arms wide, the kite lifting behind him like a sail that had decided to leave its ship.

It rose maybe twelve feet before it caught the lamp on the old cinema roof and snapped its spar. He stood there holding a torn blue sail, and for a moment nobody spoke. Then he shrugged, unwound the ribbon, and said he'd build a better one. I still have his coin in the till. Every wet Saturday since, I look for him past the chimneys, on the second star, and I keep a kite in the crate just in case.