Colour flash design of a blue TARDIS police box with white banners reading Wibbly Wobbly, Police Box and Timey Wimey Stuff, drawn in a neo-traditional style.

TARDIS with Wibbly Wobbly banners

Neo-trad · Colour · Flash

A blue TARDIS police box sits centrally, with a small lantern on its roof, four lit windows at the top and a white door with a notice. Three ribbon banners frame it, reading WIBBLY WOBBLY above, POLICE BOX across the upper body and TIMEY WIMEY STUFF below, in bold black-outlined lettering. The design uses dark outlines, flat blue and grey fills and a plain white background.

Neo-trad Lettering Tardis Police box Banner Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit close, because the dough won't rise if you fidget, and I'll not tell this twice. Your great-grandmother kept the ovens at Hallow Cross, lit at four every morning, and the first thing she did was count the loaves, because a loaf gone missing was a loaf that had walked off somewhere. One February there were eleven on the rack instead of twelve, and nobody could say where the twelfth had gone.

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The twelfth turned up on the chapel step, still warm, and beside it stood a tall blue box with a little lantern on its roof and four windows lit gold, though no rooms showed behind them. A card was pinned to its door. Martha Quill went to read it and found the ink shifting while she looked, the way the tide shifts sand. The card said the box was on loan and would be gone by the bell. Then a tall man in a coat too long for him came round the corner, out of breath, and said he was late for everything, always had been, and was there any of that bread going.

She gave him a loaf for nothing. He tore it open, looked at the crust as if it owed him money, and said time was a muddle, a wibbly wobbly business, and the timey wimey stuff never sat still long enough for anyone to get a proper look at it. Then he laughed, stepped into the box, and was gone before the bell finished.

Martha counted the rack at dawn and found twelve loaves, as there should be. There was a thirteenth too, cooling by itself in the corner, with a wax seal stamped in the shape of a lantern. She never baked it, and she never ate it, and it was still on the shelf when the bakery closed for good.