Black fine script reading Someday over rainbow watercolour splashes on the upper back of a person with dark hair.

Someday script over watercolour splashes

Lettering · Back · Colour · Photo

A black script word, Someday, is set across the upper back with a looping, cursive lettering style. Behind the lettering sit soft, bleeding splashes of pink, red, orange, yellow, green and blue, with small droplets scattered below. The colour ink dominates the composition, and the thin black linework of the script stands out against the warm skin tones.

Lettering Back Script Watercolour splash Rainbow Paint splatter

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The sign shop on the harbour at Porthcaddan still smells of turpentine and wet gulls, and on the wet Tuesday you were sixteen you were sweeping up the drips from yesterday's boat names when Mrs Ivy Penhale told you to stop and look at the tin on the top shelf. Someone had written SOMEDAY on the lid in her square capitals, the paint gone grey with age.

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Inside were the colours she had never got to use. There was a rust pink mixed for a wedding party that cancelled the week before the cake came, a lemon she had matched to a lifeboat hull that was never repainted, and a green taken from the fishermen's hut that the council pulled down in the spring. Every painter keeps one tin like this, she said, a little pile of promises. She tipped the lid so you could see the dried skins of paint curling at the edges like old bark.

She handed you a brush and a square of cheap card and asked you to letter a word in black, in the slanted hand she had spent two summers beating into you. You wrote Someday with the S looping over the rest and the y swinging down like a rope off a mooring. Then she made you splash the colours behind it before the black dried. Blue ran into red, orange bled out past the edges, and the last drops flicked off your brush onto the floorboards.

When the card was propped on the windowsill, she pressed the tin into your hands and said the word was the only sign in the shop that never needed a boat under it. You tipped the green into the water jar and watched it cloud. By the time the tide turned, the lid lay open on the bench for the first time in thirty years.