Black and grey fine line tattoo of the Millennium Falcon spaceship on the forearm, with a clenched fist visible below.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Millennium Falcon on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A large outline drawing of the Millennium Falcon starship, shown from above with its cockpit, mandibles and hull panels detailed. The thin black linework is clean and even, with solid black fills on the engines and some areas of shading in the hull. The tattoo sits on a forearm against a dark background, with the fist and part of a dotted shirt visible.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Tom,

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The frost has had the top field since Tuesday and Dad says we'll not get the tractor out until the thaw, so I've been up in the loft with the cardboard box you left behind. Your model is still in it, the grey hull you glued together the winter you were eleven, then painted over twice because the cockpit kept showing through. I've put it on the sill above the Aga. It looks rather proud of itself, which is more than can be said for the hens.

Mum asked whether I'd written to you yet and I said I was waiting for something worth saying. She thinks that's daft. Here's the news, then: the well pump finally gave up on Monday, and Ray from the feed merchant came out with a lamp and a face like a wet Sunday and spent two hours on his back in the mud. He called the pump a bloody relic and then tried to sell us a new one at a price that made Dad go quiet in the way that means trouble. We're managing with buckets. Tilly thinks it's an adventure. She hauls water across the yard as if she's landing on a hostile moon.

I looked at the box again last night and found you'd drawn the underside on the back of the lid in biro, all the little panels and the forked mandibles, the bits you always said nobody else bothered with. Was that what you wanted to be, a bloke who could make a lump of junk outrun an empire? You were always better at fixing things than flying them. Write back and tell me if you're still going to Rotterdam in March, or whether the job fell through like you said it might.

Love, Jo

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