Black and grey photos of two feet, each with fine script reading a sunshine quote beside a small sun, one on the top of the foot and one near the ankle.

Script sunshine quotes on feet

Lettering · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

The top photo shows the words "You are my sunshine..." in black script across the side of a foot, with a small sun drawn at the start of the line. The lower photo shows "My only sunshine" in lighter script on the side of a second foot, with a sun outline near the ankle. Both are shown in black and grey and the lines are thin and even against pale skin.

Lettering Ankle Sun Sunshine Script

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Fog lay on Porthmellow harbour like wet wool the morning the Lark's Promise failed to come in on the tide. Ada Penhallow stood on the quay with her coat buttoned to the throat and counted the masts again, the way she had counted them every dawn since the spring. Six boats had gone out. Five were tied up below her, knocking their fenders against the stone. The sixth carried her brother's name in green on the transom.

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Tom had never been good with letters. He could read a tide table and a weather chart, and he could splice rope in the dark, but when he wrote from the Dogger Bank he sent a sheet of squared paper with a sun drawn in the corner and the words You are my sunshine copied out in a hand so careful it looked like somebody else's. Ada kept every one in a biscuit tin under the bed. The last had come a fortnight back, and the tin still sat open on her kitchen table.

Dorrie Vosper, who ran the chandlery and had buried a husband to the sea, came down the steps with two mugs of tea and gave one to Ada without asking. "Fog'll lift by nine," she said. "It always comes back to Porthmellow, that one."

At half past eight the mist thinned to a pale coin above the breakwater. Then a bronze light slid across the water and a dark hull nosed through it, her brother's name still legible on the stern. Ada set her mug on the bollard and, for the first time since spring, laughed out loud at nothing at all. The last note in the tin had ended the way the others did, with the sun in the corner, only shorter this time: home by Friday.