Black and grey fine line script tattoo reading I'm a mess, I confess across the top of a shoulder.

Handwritten quote on the shoulder

Fine line · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

A black and grey photograph of a handwritten script tattoo reading "I'm a mess, I confess" across the top of a shoulder. The thin, even linework gives the lettering a delicate, pen-like finish, with the letters sitting on a gentle diagonal along the curve of the skin. The soft grey background and shadowing on the arm keep the focus on the text.

Fine line Lettering Shoulder Quote Script Handwriting Text

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dolores had her hand flat between my shoulder blades when the band slid into the slow number, and she said my name the way my mother used to, like a full stop. "You've been checking that door since eight," she said. "Go on, then. Say it."

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The Starlight Rooms sat above Pemberton's fish market, and on Saturdays the whole floor smelled of brine and Brylcreem and the lemonade we pretended was gin. I had written Frank nine letters since March. Nine, in my best pen, each one folded into the pocket of the coat I wore to every social. Not one had reached the post, because I kept carrying them home again. He was on the trawler Mary Ellen out of Hull, or so his sister said, and his sister had stopped answering my knocks.

"I'm a mess," I told her. "I confess I've been in love with a man who doesn't know my surname." She laughed, the loud sort that turns heads, and then she stopped laughing. She took the pencil from behind my ear, turned my programme over and wrote on the back in her round schoolroom hand: Dear Frank, come dancing Saturday, or I'll come to Hull and fetch you myself.

I stood at the edge of the floor with the programme folded in my glove while the band played the last waltz. When the door opened on a gust of sea air and a man in a wet oilskin, I didn't go to him. I went to the cloakroom and asked for my coat. In its pocket I found a damp scrap of paper, and on it, in a hand no steadier than mine, someone had written: Saturday. Save me the slow one.