Black fine line tattoo of a flying saucer with a tractor beam, two small sparkles and the words GET IN, LOSER, on the side of the ribs.

UFO with tractor beam and quote on the ribs

Fine line · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A flying saucer hovers above a cone-shaped tractor beam, with two small four-point sparkles beside it and the words GET IN, LOSER... in capitals beneath. The outlines are fine and even, and the underside of the saucer is shaded with dotwork stippling. The tattoo is black and grey, set against lightly toned skin on the side of the torso.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Tuesday, 11:40 p.m. Dad says I need to stop writing in this notebook like it's going to be published, but Dad also thinks the Co-op on Harrow Road sells prawns that are safe to eat, so I'm ignoring him. Tonight the bus stopped outside the garage on the ring road and nobody got off, which is how I knew it was going to be one of those nights. Just me, a driver with a Greggs bag, and a pale green sky over the bypass like someone had left a fridge light on.

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I was counting the streetlamps when the saucer came down over the car park behind the retail park. Not a big one. Roughly the size of a Ford Fiesta and lit up like a birthday cake. A beam dropped out of the underside, the shape of an upturned traffic cone, and it went right over Shazia from the chippy, who was out for a fag, and she didn't even look up. She just lifted her hand the way you do for a bus you've decided to miss.

Then the window slid open with a noise like a tin of peaches and a voice said, very clearly, get in, loser. I asked where we were going. It said somewhere with a better class of rubbish, which is fair enough, because the bins on our estate have been ignored since August.

I'm writing this from the back seat of the saucer. It smells of cheese and sherbet. We're somewhere above the Tesco roundabout and the lights look like someone spilled a jar of glitter on a map. I'll post this when we land, if they let me have my phone back.

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