Quote tattoo on the ribs
Lettering · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo
A photograph of a black serif quote in four lines of text, placed on the side of the ribcage. The lettering is crisp, solid black ink with no shading, and the text is set in a slightly ragged, centred block. The skin is pale and the background is plain and light, with a grey knit top gathered to one side and blue denim jeans at the bottom of the frame.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Sit closer, the wind off the firth gets into these stones after dark. You will not find this castle on any map worth the paper. Its last lord was a clockmaker's son who lost his wife to a fever and his brother to the sea, so he set every clock in the keep to run wrong on purpose, one hour behind, then two, then none at all.
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His steward was a girl called Isobel Rennie, who had a habit of asking the wrong questions. One January she climbed the tower stair with a ledger under her arm and found him sitting in the dead bell room with the hands of the great brass clock lying in his lap. "Ask me what the hour is," he said, and she did, and he laughed like a rusted hinge. "Nobody knows. That is the trouble with hours. They never tell you what to do with yourself."
She took the hands from him and fitted them back, one tooth at a time, and when the bell rang over the bay for the first time in nine years, the lord wept. Then he went down to the kitchens and ate bread with the fishermen's wives, which he had not done since his brother drowned.
They say she cut a line into the lintel of that bell room before she left for the mainland, in letters as plain as a ledger entry. The stone is still there, if you care to climb for it. It says the hour is given to us, and what we make of it is our own business.
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