Black outline drawing of round glasses with a solid lightning bolt above them, shown as a flat design with no body part visible.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Round glasses and lightning bolt design

Black and grey · Flash

A simple line drawing of a pair of round-framed glasses joined by a short bridge, with a solid black lightning bolt placed above the right lens. The glasses are drawn in a uniform, bold black outline with no shading, and the bolt is filled in solid black. The plain white background and centred composition show only the design itself.

Glasses Lightning bolt

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mind the teapot, and don't let Mr Haskett near the piano or we'll be here till the tide turns. Now where was I? Ah yes, the spectacles. Old Ezra Vane kept a shop on Quay Steps where he ground lenses for fishermen whose eyes had gone soft from staring at the water. Every frame was round, because he swore a round lens gathers light from all sides the way a rock pool does. His apprentice, a girl called Nell Tregarth with hands like a cormorant's feet, swept glass dust from the floorboards and asked him why, every single day.

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One August the sky went the colour of pewter over the harbour, and the Maud Kestrel came limping in with her mainmast gone. Her skipper swore he'd seen the storm split open with a white bolt that stopped in the air above the water, zigzagged, and waited there the way a dog waits at a door. Ezra laughed until he coughed. Nell didn't laugh. She took a pair of his spare frames, set the lenses the wrong way round, and climbed onto the harbour wall as the light went.

She saw it come. Not the bolt itself, but the thin cold line of its path, drawn across the dark water like a pencil stroke. She ran down the steps with a lantern and shouted until the lifeboat crew heard her over the wind, and they pulled the last two men off the rocks before the strike hit the empty mooring where the Kestrel would have been tied.

The next morning the mooring was a black stump, smoking gently, and Ezra was sweeping glass dust off the floor in silence. He handed Nell a fresh pair of frames without a word. Those are the ones she wore for the rest of her life, and they never once fogged. Now, who's for another cup?