Black lettering tattoo reading 'we accept the love we think we deserve' in a typewriter-style font across the upper back below the shoulder blade.

Quote tattoo across the upper back

Lettering · Back · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of two lines of black typewriter-style text tattooed across the upper back, below the shoulder blade. The letters have crisp edges and solid black ink with soft grey shading at the edges. The skin is lit evenly against a dark, out-of-focus background with a blue strap and dark clothing at the top of the frame.

Lettering Back Quote Text Word Typewriter font

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mavis had typed other people's apologies for eleven years and had never once sent one of her own. On Saturday nights at the Palais in Margate she sat behind the cloakroom hatch with an Imperial portable and a tin of carbon paper, taking down the notes that dancers pushed through the gap beside the coat hooks. Most were for men who had asked the wrong girl for the last waltz. Most came from girls who had said yes anyway.

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One November a long-limbed fellow called Dennis Vail brought her a sheet folded four times, already written out in pencil. He wanted it typed so it looked official, he said, because his handwriting made everything sound like a threat. She read it while the band ran through "Moonglow". He was sorry he had shouted at Peggy by the bandstand. He would be grateful for another chance. He knew he was not much of a catch. Mavis typed it clean, three copies, and slid the top one back through the hatch with a smile that cost her nothing.

Peggy came to the counter an hour later, not for her coat. She read the letter standing up, then sat on the bench and read it again with her lips moving. "He's sorry," she said flatly. "He's always sorry. That's the trouble." She turned the sheet over and found the blank side. "Could you type something for me instead? Only if you've got a minute."

Mavis rolled a fresh card into the platen. Peggy watched the keys go down one letter at a time, the bell chiming at the end of each line, until the words stood up black and even: we accept the love we think we deserve. Peggy read it twice, folded it into her glove, and went back out onto the sprung floor without looking at the bandstand.