Black and grey pencil sketch design of a vintage microphone wrapped in a ribbon, surrounded by music notes and a treble clef.

Vintage microphone with music notes sketch

Black and grey · Flash

A pencil drawing of a vintage ribbed microphone on a stand, with a ribbon coiling around its body and ending in a curl at the base. Musical notes and a treble clef float around the microphone, with light shading on the mic grille and the ribbon. The drawing is in greyscale pencil on a textured background and is centred in the frame.

Microphone Music note Treble clef Ribbon Sketch

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The microphone came to us in a tea chest with a lamb's ear tag rattling in the bottom, sold off by the Pritchards when they gave up the dairy. Dad said it was older than the milking parlour. Its grille had gone the colour of weak tea, and the cable had been wound so tight around the stand that it kept its own shape, a long loop like something that had given up trying to escape.

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Mum wanted it for the parish carol service, the only reason anyone in Coldharbour Fen would stand up in a cold church and sing. The hall had no power until the generator caught, so we ran the lead out through the back door, across the yard and past the sheep pens, where the frost was thick enough to take prints. I stood on an upturned crate and tested it with my knuckle. A dull thud rolled out of the speakers like a barrel going down a ramp.

On the night the snow came sideways and half the choir stayed home. There was only Gwen Pritchard, me, and a boy from the bungalows with a trumpet he couldn't play. Gwen held the stand steady while I leaned in, closer than the sticker said, and sang the first line of Once in Royal David's City, which I'd been sure I'd forgotten. The old mic took my voice and gave it back warmer, with a hum underneath like the fridge in the dairy.

When the last verse finished, the generator coughed and died, and the hall went dark except for the frost-light through the windows. Nobody clapped. Gwen reached over and wound the cable back around the stand, one loop at a time, and left the end curled on the floor like a question mark. I still have it on the shelf. Some nights I unwind it and wind it again, just to hear the thud.