Colour tattoo of a blue TARDIS in front of an orange sunburst, with the words we're all stories in the end, on the upper thigh.

TARDIS with quote on thigh

Thigh · Mixed · Photo

A large TARDIS police box is tattooed on the upper thigh, shown with grey shading on its roof and doors and blue tones on its panels. Behind it sits an orange and yellow circular sunburst, and black script lettering reads 'we're all stories' above the box and 'in the end' below it. The image is a close, slightly angled photograph with the box filling the centre of the frame.

Thigh Tardis Police box Quote Lettering Sunburst Circle

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The snow had buried the lane to the hedgerows by the time the blue box wheezed into my yard, and I was halfway through pouring the last of the porter for the carters when its door swung open with a long complaint of hinges nobody in the village had ever oiled. A man stepped out holding a lantern that gave off no smoke. He stamped his boots on my step, looked up at the sign creaking over the porch, and asked whether I had a bed going spare.

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I said I had one room with a fire that drew, and a bolt on the door. He said that would do nicely, and that he would pay in something more useful than coin, which was a story. Carter Hobb laughed into his mug. Hannah from the forge wanted to know what sort of story. The man set his lantern on the bar and said, "Every road you've ever walked is one, Mrs Thorne. The trick is knowing where the last page falls."

He talked until the candles were stubs. He spoke of a house larger inside than out, of a clock that ran backwards for a single winter, of a woman who kept a whole town alive by refusing to be forgotten. When the carters finally drank up, I went out to shut the gate and found the box gone, its snow ring pressed flat and cold, the lane unbroken all the way to the church.

In the morning the inn was quiet but for the kettle. On the slate behind the bar, in a hand I had not used since I was a girl at my mother's table, someone had written: we're all stories in the end. Beneath it was a sunburst drawn in chalk the colour of marmalade, and I have not wiped it away.