Black lettering reading Here comes the sun in a typewriter style serif, tattooed on the side of the ribs, with a striped bandeau top and a braid visible.

Here comes the sun lettering on ribs

Lettering · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

The image shows a close side view of a torso with black lettering tattooed on the ribs, reading Here comes the sun across two lines in a typewriter style serif font. The ink is solid black with clean, even edges and no shading or colour. The subject wears a multicoloured chevron bandeau top and a braid is visible at the top right, while the cropped composition places the text centrally against plain skin and a wooden deck behind.

Lettering Ribs Text Phrase Sun

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mrs Vera Pargeter had typed the same line forty times before the Olivetti jammed on the fortieth. The R hammer stuck mid-stroke, and she sat back with her cardigan sleeves pushed to the elbow and said a word the vicar would not have liked.

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The machine had come from a bankrupt printer in Ramsgate in 1962, the year Walter decided the guesthouse needed a proper notice board. It lived on a card table in the back room, where the windows looked onto a wall of hydrangeas and the light came through in long yellow bars. Every morning she typed the weather for the guests, and every morning she typed the same two lines across the top, because Walter had insisted. Here comes the sun. He said a sign should promise something, and that a forecast could only ever be a guess.

The boy from number six, Tomas, who was staying with his gran while his parents sorted out a house in Hull, came in with a pencil behind his ear and offered to look. He unscrewed the ribbon cover, freed the hammer with a fingernail and blew on it the way Walter used to blow out the cake candles. 'It's clean,' he said. 'It just wanted a rest.' He typed his own name on the scrap of paper beside her, slowly, one key at a time, and laughed when the bell rang at the end of the line.

After he had gone she pinned the sheet to the hall board beside the tide times. The sun came through the glass at a slant and lay across the words, and for once they did not feel like a promise. They were just letters, black and a little uneven, and she thought Walter would have liked them better that way. She reached for the carriage and pushed it back, the bell rang again, and the hydrangeas outside went on being blue.