Black and grey traditional tattoo on the forearm showing two pistons, a banner reading LET'S BO, wings and an oval emblem with stars.

Pistons, wings and stars on a forearm

Traditional · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A black and grey tattoo on the outer forearm shows two pistons stacked vertically, with a central oval emblem containing five stars. Feathered wings spread either side of the emblem, and a banner above the pistons carries partial lettering reading LET'S BO. The bold outlines, solid black fills and grey shading are typical of traditional flash work, and the photograph is taken straight on against a dark background.

Traditional Forearm Piston Wing Star Emblem Banner Lettering Engine

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nan Price had the Triumph on the bench by seven, and by nine the pistons were out, one at a time, laid on a clean rag like a pair of tired boxers. Gil said the crank was fine. Gil always said the crank was fine. He came round the back of the garage with two mugs of tea and a face that wanted to be somewhere else, and he watched her pick the rings off with a bent screwdriver.

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'You're not going to make it go tonight,' he said.

'Didn't say I was.' She turned the left piston to the light. Someone had scratched a little wing into the crown years back, a cheap stamp, and under it a date from the war that meant nothing now. The banner on the old workshop board had faded to LET'S BO, the rest gone to rain. Her father had painted that board. He used to say the words were a promise to the engine, not to the rider.

The orchard ran right up to the fence behind them, and the windfalls were already thick in the grass, sweet and going to vinegar. A wasp walked along the rim of Gil's mug. Nan wiped her hands and picked up the second piston.

By the time the sun dropped behind the plum trees the cylinder was honed and the rings sat true in their grooves. She fitted them, one, two, three, and gave the flywheel a quarter turn with her palm. It caught. Gil whooped like a boy and spilled tea down his good shirt, and she laughed so hard she had to sit on the petrol can.