Black typewriter-style lettering reading 'An Angel who did not so much Fall as Saunter Vaguely Downwards', with a red trident and gold ring tattooed beside it on the back.

Typewriter quote with red trident

Lettering · Back · Mixed · Photo

The tattoo shows a line of black serif typewriter-style text across five lines, ending with a full stop. Beside the text at the lower right is a small trident with red prongs, a black shaft and a yellow-gold ring near its base. The lettering is crisp and even, set against reddened skin in a close, straight-on photograph.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The halo has been in your coat pocket since Tuesday, because it keeps slipping over your ears whenever you lean on the pier rail, and a thing that will not stay put is of no use to anybody. Below you the grey Channel knocks against the piling. Somewhere above the cloud, the office that sent you down is still filing its paperwork, and you are fairly sure nobody has noticed you are late.

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The trident belongs to Mr Okonedo, who runs the penny arcade at the landward end of the pier. He has been asking after it since the Easter fete, when you borrowed it to frighten off a gull that was after a bag of whelks. He is not a devil. He is a retired conjuror with a fondness for props, and he will not believe that you meant nothing by it. You have been dodging him by walking the long way round the bandstand, past the donkeys, whose owner has started calling you Brother.

On Thursday the wind took the halo clean off your head and sent it skittering across the boards. A small girl in a yellow mac caught it, put it on, and announced that it fitted her perfectly, which seemed to you the most reasonable thing anyone had said about it in years. Her mother gave you back the halo and a look that suggested you ought to know better at your age.

So you climb onto the rail with the trident tucked under one arm. You are not going to fall, you tell yourself. You are going to saunter, as is only proper, with your hands in your pockets and your collar up, towards the sea wall and whatever lies beyond it. The gulls watch you go. Mr Okonedo, behind his glass, lifts a hand, and you lift yours in return.

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