Black script lettering reading Hello there, the angel from my nightmare across the lower back, above a pair of blue jeans.

Script quote across the lower back

Lettering · Back · Black and grey · Photo

The image shows a three-line quote in black cursive script tattooed across the lower back, reading Hello there, the angel from my nightmare. The letters are drawn with even, moderately weighted linework and solid black ink, with some looping strokes and connected letterforms. The skin is light and the background is a dark top and blue denim jeans, which frame the text in a simple, centred composition.

Lettering Back Script Quote Lettering Angel

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Edith had been pegging out sheets for forty years and had never once been startled by the washing line, so when the figure stood up from behind the runner beans at a quarter to three, she did not drop the peg bag. She simply stood still, the cold wet sheet hanging against her shoulder like a second person.

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It was not a large figure. It wore a coat the colour of wet slate and held its hands clasped in front of it, the way the vicar held his at funerals. Its face was pale in the lamplight from the kitchen window, and it looked at the sweet peas as though they owed it money. "Hello there," it said, in a voice that was almost polite. "I am the angel from your nightmare. I have been sent to tidy up."

Edith had dreamt about this for nine weeks, ever since Walter's chair had gone quiet by the range. In the dream a tall thing came through the gate and asked for the key to the shed. She had always woken before she answered. This time she found her voice was steady. "The shed key is on the nail by the back door," she said. "You'll want the trowel as well. The couch grass is taking the whole bed."

The angel blinked. It seemed to have prepared for screaming. Slowly it unclasped its hands, stepped onto the path, and looked down at the dark soil where Walter had planted garlic every October for thirty years. "You are not frightened," it said, sounding almost hurt. Edith pegged the last sheet. "I'm seventy-eight," she said. "Somebody has to do the weeding."