Black handwritten lettering on an upper arm reads its is my life with the attribution Jon Bovi beneath it.

Handwritten quote on upper arm

Lettering · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of black lettering on the outer upper arm, written in a loose, handwritten script. The quote reads its is my life, with the attribution Jon Bovi on a second line below and slightly to the left. The lines are uniform black ink on pale skin, with soft natural lighting and a dark fabric edge visible at the left of the frame.

Lettering Upper arm Quote Lettering Script Handwriting Text

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dad painted the banners himself until his hands gave out, and after that the job fell to me. So it was that I spent the last wet week of October kneeling on the damp floor of the empty big top, lettering a length of canvas that read ITS IS MY LIFE. Dad had dictated it from his chair by the stove, tapping the arm with his pipe. He'd heard it on the wireless in a lorry cab outside Carlisle and decided it was the motto that would bring the crowds back.

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"Put the apostrophe where it goes," I said.

"Put it where I say." He had never cared much how a word looked, only how it sounded when it was shouted across a ring. The gate banner had to be up by Saturday, when the council man was coming to decide whether our field was still ours to rent. We'd sold the lion to a sanctuary in August, and the ticket money now barely covered the diesel.

So I did as he said. I lettered it in red on white, the way he'd taught me, and beneath it I painted the name in smaller capitals, DOM TARRANT, though I had no idea who he was. On Saturday the council man stood under the gate with his clipboard, squinting up at the words for a long time. Then he laughed, properly, the first laugh anybody had given us all year.

"Mr Halloway," he said, "I'm not sure your motto's spelt right." Dad looked up at the canvas, then at me. "No," he said. "But it's ours." He signed the form, and the field stayed ours.