Black and grey fine line script tattoo on the upper back reading no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Handwritten quote across upper back

Lettering · Back · Black and grey · Photo

A four-line handwritten style quote reads no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should, set across the upper back over the shoulder blade. The lettering is drawn in thin, even black linework with a slightly looping cursive character and no shading. The photograph is black and white, with soft light falling on the skin and a dark hairline and chain at the top edge of the frame.

Lettering Fine line Back Quote Text

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The night shift at the Lenmore crossing ran on tea gone cold and the hum of the scanner, and you had stopped noticing either years ago. Then the Rotterdam coach rolled in forty minutes late, and the driver, Dessi, a big man who smelled of pine air freshener, handed you a folded petrol receipt he had found wedged in the seat of the third row. On the back, in blue ink and a looping, careful hand, someone had written: no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Below it, a phone number had been scribbled out so hard the pen had torn the paper.

Keep reading

You ask Dessi whose seat it was. He shrugs and says a woman in a coat too thin for March got off at the services near the border and never climbed back on. Her case is still in the hold. You open it on the steel table under the strip light, and beneath a rule book and a packet of mints you find a bundle of letters tied with garden string, all addressed to the same flat in Ostend, none of them sent. The regulations say you should log everything and touch nothing that isn't yours. You read one anyway, then another.

By six the sky over the car park has gone the colour of dishwater. You pin the receipt above the kettle, where the light from the window falls on it. The coach is still idling in the lot when the day shift arrives, and on the screen by the barrier a grainy figure is walking away from the frontier, past the last lamp, towards the lights of the town. You never learn whether she reached the flat. You only know the handwriting was steady to the very end of the line, as if the words themselves had made up their minds.