Black and grey script lettering reading All God's Angels Come To Us Disguised across the ribs, in a lettering style with a fine, even stroke.

Script quote tattoo on the ribs

Lettering · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A black and grey photograph of a person's side and ribs showing a four-line script quote reading All God's Angels Come To Us Disguised, with each line set slightly off centre. The lettering is a smooth, fine-to-medium weight script in solid black ink, and the skin shows soft shading around the lines. A plaid shirt is pulled up at the top right and the waistband of jeans sits at the bottom edge of the frame.

Lettering Ribs Quote Script Angel Text

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Tom, the boat came in late again on Tuesday, and the wind had the rope out of Angus's hands twice before he got it looped round the bollard. I'm writing because you asked me to keep a proper diary of the island this year, and because I can't stop thinking about the man who got off the last ferry with one canvas bag and a bicycle with a bent front wheel.

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He stood outside the post office for the best part of an hour, reading the notice board as if it were scripture. Mrs Gillies sent him up to the manse, where the minister's wife found him a room over the bakery. Nobody asked where he'd come from. You know how it is here. We ask what you can fix and whether you take sugar.

He mended the wheel of Mhairi's pram on Thursday, cleared the gutter on the church roof on Saturday, and sat with old Donald through a whole Wednesday afternoon when the telephone line was down and the poor man couldn't reach his daughter in Perth. He didn't want thanks. When I pressed him, he only shrugged and said the people here had been kind to him, and that he supposed he'd been sent to see whether he was still any use.

I keep the post, so I notice who writes and who doesn't. Last week a letter came for him with no return address, only a smudged postmark from somewhere in the south. He read it on the step, folded it very small and tucked it inside his shirt. Then he went back to the bakery and whistled. I told myself that was the sort of thing the minister would call a sign, and I'll leave the sermons to him. Come home before the autumn gales, love. Mum.