Fine line black tattoo of a small stylised craft on the top of a foot, with the words still flying in script beside it.

Still flying script and small craft on foot

Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo

A bare foot with pale pink toenails shows a small black tattoo of a stylised craft or creature in simple outline with light internal detail. The words still flying are written in a slanted black script above and to the right of the motif. The linework is fine and the image is in clear focus against a plain pale background.

Fine line Other Script Quote Text

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The glider had come down on the vestry roof twice that spring, and twice Old Marta climbed the ladder to fetch it, muttering that a thing built to fly ought to have the decency to stay put. Tomas had carved it from a length of ash the winter his brother's boat went missing off the Skerry, sanding the wings until the grain showed through like water under a thin skin. He gave it to Ida with a sack of flour and a promise that he would never again sail out in the dark.

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On the wedding morning the barn smelled of cut hay and scorched sugar from the ovens. Tomas wanted the glider launched from the loft door and sent down the length of the trestle table, over the bread and the ham and the cake. The wind dropped as he drew back his arm. The glider nosed down, shuddered above the cake, and hung there in air that did not seem to move at all. Ida's brother laughed and called it an omen, Marta called it a bad one, and the whole barn held its breath.

Then the big door swung open and a draught came up off the marsh, smelling of salt and rain. The glider lifted, turned once above the heads of the guests, and sailed the length of the barn to settle softly in Ida's lap. Old Pete from the Skerry, who had not spoken all day, raised his cup and said, 'Still flying,' and the words went round the tables faster than the cider.

The glider hangs above the kitchen sink now, its tail mended with a sliver of tin. Under the left wing, in pencil faded almost to silver, Ida wrote the date of the wedding. Their daughter asks why it never goes out to the air like the other toys. Ida tells her to keep an eye on the door, because one day the wind will come up off the marsh again.