Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Jack and Sally with a red smiley face
Traditional · Thigh · Mixed · Photo
Jack Skellington and Sally face each other in the foreground, drawn with bold black outlines and grey shading. Behind them a large red smiley face with X eyes sits beside the words We Can Live Like Jack & Sally, arcing across the top. The red ink dominates the upper half and the figures are finished in black and grey, with the photo taken close up on the skin.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The rain had stopped by the time Nell reached Gulley Street, but the gutters still ran red with the last of the chip shop's neon. She had a tin of vermilion, a stencil cut from a cereal box, and a text from Owen that said only: are you coming or not. She was coming. She had decided that on the number 14, somewhere between the cathedral and the bingo hall.
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The shutter of Pell's Wash had been blank since spring. Owen had talked the landlord into it over three pints, arguing that a city this grey needed one grin on a wall. Nell pinned the stencil flat and dabbed the smiley in with a sponge, two round X eyes crossed like a dead man's wink. Owen sat on an upturned crate with a sheet of lyrics in his lap, reading the words back to himself under his breath. He had explained once, in the Crown, that the pair of cartoon skeletons in the film were a lovesick bone-thin fellow and a rag doll who stitched herself back together to follow him. We can live like Jack and Sally, he'd said, if we want.
He came over when the smiley was dry and held the stencil for the lettering, which curved above the shutter and ran off the edge where the metal folded. They nearly argued about the ampersand. Then a police car rolled past with its lights off, and they both froze like children caught in an orchard, and then they were laughing too hard to paint.
Nell did the stitches last, a single black thread across each cheek of the figure she had drawn as herself. Owen watched her finish and said the Leeds job started on Monday. She kept her brush moving. At the bottom of the shutter she left the last stitch undone, a loose end hanging off the stroke, because he had always said that was the best part of the picture.
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