Black and grey blackwork tattoo of a light bulb inside a circle, with TESLA and 1856 in white lettering on a solid black rectangle, on the upper thigh.

Light bulb and Tesla 1856 on upper thigh

Blackwork · Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

A solid black rectangle sits on the outer upper thigh, holding a white line drawing of a light bulb with a filament inside a circle. Below the bulb, the word TESLA and the year 1856 are set in white lettering. The photograph is taken straight on in black and white, with the black panel giving strong contrast against the skin.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Owen,

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The new lamp came up on the afternoon shift, and Mr Pascoe would not let anyone touch the crate until the overman had counted every bolt in it. Inside, packed in straw that smelt of the Swansea docks, were six glass bulbs, each with a thin wire bent into a loop like a fish caught in a jar. Printed on the lid was a name none of us knew, TESLA, and beneath it a year that struck Tomos Reese as a joke. 1856, as if the thing had been made before our grandfathers were bairns.

Pascoe lit one in the lamp room at the bottom of the shaft. Nobody needed a candle. The light did not gutter when the cage dropped, and the men stood under it as if they had been asked to pray. Tomos spat on the floor and called it witchcraft, but he kept watching the glass the way you watch a dog you do not trust.

I stayed late that night to check the wiring, and the bulb hummed a note I could feel in my back teeth. I thought of you in the Aberdare drift with your lamp guttering and the company's promises guttering with it. Pascoe says there is no flame in the glass to take the air, so there is no gas to fire in a bad seam. Someone told me the man who made it sat in the dark as a boy and decided the dark could be argued with.

If they let you come home at the end of the month, bring your own lamp and leave the old one with the overman. Mam says the range is out again and the stairs are cold. Keep your head down and your eyes open.

Your brother, Evan

P.S. Pascoe has promised me the next crate. I will keep one for you under the table, where the light stays warm.

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