Small black lettering reading let it be in a typewriter-style font on the upper back, with a gloved finger pointing at it.

Let it be lettering on upper back

Lettering · Back · Black and grey · Photo

The photograph shows the words let it be tattooed in small, upright black lettering in a typewriter-style font on the upper back near the neck. A gloved finger rests beside the text, and the skin is slightly out of focus around the design. The ink is solid black with no shading or colour, and the text sits on a diagonal across the frame.

Lettering Back Let it be Text Phrase

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Vernon Pike had spent three days on the Olympia when Mrs Ansell carried it into the shop wrapped in a tea towel. "It isn't broken," she said, setting it down on the counter like a sleeping cat. "It just keeps typing the same thing." She wound a sheet from the carriage and held it up to the window. Down the page ran the words let it be, struck again and again, each line a shade fainter than the last, as if the machine had run out of ink and patience at the same time.

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He went through it the way his father had taught him: ribbon, type bars, escapement, the little brass hammers that never seemed to rest. Everything was sound. He cleaned the platen, oiled the carriage rails, and rolled in a fresh sheet to type the usual test line about the quick brown fox. The keys struck, one after another, and the paper said let it be. Mrs Ansell laughed, then stopped laughing, and asked him quite seriously whether he thought machines could hold a grudge.

She told him about her son, who had gone to Halifax on a ship in April and written twice since, both letters so short they might have been telegrams. She had typed back every week, long letters full of the allotment and the weather, and the Olympia had kept answering her in its own stubborn voice. Vernon charged her for a ribbon and a bit of oil, which was all the job came to. She folded the sheet into her handbag and took the machine home under her arm.

A postcard came to the shop five weeks later, addressed in the same clean typeface, with a picture of a lighthouse on the front. On the back, in capitals that had clearly been struck with some force, were the words LET IT BE, and below them a single line: MUM, THE BAY IS FULL OF GULLS. Vernon pinned it above the bench beside the test sheets, where it stayed, and for once he did not reach for the oil.