Black script reading live laugh love with a small outlined heart below, tattooed on the back of a person's neck.

Live laugh love script with heart on neck

Lettering · Neck · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a black ink tattoo on the back of a neck, with fine hair visible at the edge of the frame. The words live, laugh and love are written in flowing script stacked over three lines, with a small outlined heart beneath them. The ink is solid black with no shading, and the cool blue-green tint of the photo dominates the composition.

Lettering Neck Script Heart

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit down, you're letting the cold in, and I'm not telling this twice. Out past Cuervo Wells, where the highway gives up pretending to be a road, there was a petrol station with one working pump and a sign-painter named Abel Teague who slept in the back of his van. He painted everything: hubcaps, stray dogs, the names of dead men on the cemetery gate. Folk paid him in pie when they had no money, and he never complained about the pie.

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One spring a woman called Marisol Vance pulled in with a crate of oranges and a husband who had gone quiet since the Tuesday. She asked Abel to paint three words on the breeze block behind the pump, stacked one above the other like fence posts: live, laugh, love. Under them she wanted a small heart. He asked her why those words. She said they were the last things her husband had ever told her to do, and she wanted to see if they would hold up in the sun.

Abel worked three days. He let the letters loop the way his mother wrote grocery lists, and he tilted the heart a touch to the left so it looked like it was listening. When he finished, the sun was going down the colour of a peach, and Marisol stood with her hand over her mouth and said nothing at all. She paid him in oranges, drove east towards the mountains, and left the crate behind.

Years later a man came with a tin of grey primer to cover the wall, and got as far as the first word before the paint started to bead and roll off like rain on a bonnet. He drove away and never came back, and the station still stands with its three blue lines and its small leaning heart. Go out there at dusk and you'll see it. Mind the dog. He's called Abel, after the painter, and he'll want his pie.