Two inner wrists with black typewriter lettering reading the truth is out there and i want to believe, with a small red alien doodle beside the second line.

Typewriter quotes on both wrists

Lettering · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

Two inner wrists show small tattoos set in a black typewriter-style font. The left wrist reads the truth is out there across two lines, and the right reads i want to believe with a tiny red alien head doodle at the end. The lettering is crisp with solid black ink, the red line work is minimal, and the close framing keeps the two wrists centred against denim.

Lettering Forearm Alien Quote

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The third carbon copy came out grey at the edges, which is how Joan Pell knew the ribbon was finished. She fed a fresh strip into the Olivetti, sat square to the desk and typed the minutes of Thursday's parish meeting again, because nobody in Saltcote would agree to anything until somebody wrote it down. Item four was the lights over Hallows Marsh. Item five was a proposal to ask the council for a second bench.

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Dennis from the eel boats had seen them three nights running, a red-edged glow hanging low over the reeds like a lamp someone had forgotten. Joan wrote to the county. The county wrote back with a leaflet about moth traps. Her nephew Owen, who drove the bread van and had never once doubted a thing he wanted to be true, said he would take her out at dusk with a flask and a torch that worked.

They stood on the sea wall until the cold came up through their boots. The light arrived at a quarter past nine, slow and low, then vanished, then showed again on the far side of the dyke, and Owen laughed so hard he had to sit down in the samphire. Joan did not laugh. She watched it the way she watched a line come clean off the platen, and felt something in her chest sit up straight.

Next morning she typed a single sheet and pinned it to the noticeboard outside the post office. Under the minutes, in capitals she had to strike twice, it read: I WANT TO BELIEVE. Beside it, in red biro, she drew a small round head with two eyes, and under that, in the same typed capitals, the line she had always known was true: THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE. Owen, reading it over her shoulder, said nothing, which for Owen was a victory.