Two matching tattoos of a Portal-style ring with a black stick figure, one blue on a hip above a belt and one orange on a lower stomach above patterned shorts.

Matching Portal rings on two hips

Other · Mixed · Photo

Two people stand side by side, each with a tattoo of a portal ring enclosing a solid black stick figure with one arm outstretched. The left tattoo is blue and sits on a hip above a black belt and jeans, while the right tattoo is orange and sits on a lower stomach above patterned shorts. The rings have bold, solid fills with loose, sketchy highlight strokes, and the bright colour contrasts with the skin tones and the busy red, blue and yellow pattern of the shorts.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The two hoops had been bolted to the north wall of Halden Depot since before anyone on the night shift was born, one above the inspection pit and one beside the coal hatch. Mrs Okonedo who ran the lost property shelves insisted they were for measuring damp. Ruth Calloway, who drove the last tram, said they were for practising balance. Nobody mentioned that anything thrown through the blue one came out of the orange one, two metres along the wall, a little warmer than it went in.

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When Tomas and his brother stopped speaking over their late father's workbench, the depot became the only place they could be in the same room without shouting. They took the shifts at opposite ends of the bay. Tomas posted a flask of tea through the blue hoop each evening. Each morning it came back through the orange one with the cup rinsed and a single biscuit balanced on its lid, and he never once asked how his brother knew the flask was empty.

On the fortieth morning there was a note folded under the biscuit, in the same square capitals their father used on invoices. It said the hatch needed oiling and that the tram route was quiet until Thursday. Tomas read it twice, then took a spanner from the rack and walked the length of the wall to the orange ring. He stepped through, which was always like walking into cold water, and found his brother stepping out of the blue one at exactly the same moment, both of them holding a spanner.

Neither of them laughed. They stood in the gap between the hoops and passed the spanner back and forth until the hatch was oiled, and when the first tram came rattling up the ramp, Tomas wrote on the back of the invoice in square capitals that the hoops could stay exactly where they were.

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