Black typewriter-style lettering reading she believed she could so she did, set in five lines along the side of the ribs.

Quote tattoo along the ribs

Lettering · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a single quote tattooed in five stacked lines on the side of a torso, reading she believed she could so she did. The lettering is solid black with crisp edges and a typewriter-style serif face. The skin is pale and the frame is cropped tightly around the ink, with dark clothing and lace at the top and left edges.

Lettering Ribs Quote Text Word Typewriter font

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Out past the ring of Ceres, the salvage tug Marrow Kettle carried a typewriter bolted to its galley table, and nobody aboard could say who had fitted it. Old Hanne Ostrow kept the keys oiled and the platen clean. Each shift she typed the day's tally onto narrow paper strips, tore them off, and fed them to the recycler, because paper was too dear to keep.

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One winter cycle the reactor coughed, and the fuel manifest came up blank. The crew wanted to strip the tug for parts and drift on the ice until someone found them. Hanne said nothing. She sat at the machine for three nights, working out burns on the back of an old ledger, the letters jumping under her fingers. Her grandson Piet brought her tea and asked what she was doing. She said she was finding out whether the Kettle could reach the mining station on what was left.

On the third morning she rolled in a fresh strip and typed five short lines, one under another. Piet read them over her shoulder and laughed, then went quiet. "You'll never make that," he said. "Maybe not," she said, and tore the strip free. "But I believed I could, so I typed it out, and that is the only part of the sum I can control."

She pinned the strip above the engine hatch with a bent nail. The crew read it, swore at it, and then, one by one, went down to the hatch and started working the valves exactly as it said. They reached the station with four hours of fuel to spare. Afterwards the engineers claimed the credit, the cook claimed it for the stew, and Hanne took her strip down, folded it twice, and tucked it into her coat. It stayed in the tug's log for the rest of its working life, and every new hand who signed on was made to read it first.