Hand-drawn ink design of a winged sheep across three banners reading A teenage vow in a parking lot, til tonight do us part, with grey shading and brown and yellow wash accents.

Winged sheep with lyric banners

Lettering · Mixed · Flash

A winged sheep is drawn in side profile, with its body shaded in grey wash and a brown wing sweeping up behind it. Three curled ribbon banners cross the sheep's body and carry the lettering A TEENAGE VOW IN, A PARKING LOT, TIL and TONIGHT DO US PART in block capitals. Fine ink linework and soft grey shading sit on a plain white background, with a small yellow shape at the top left.

Lettering Wing Banner Ribbon Lettering Text

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The sheep came up the front steps of Marram House on the last Saturday in September, wings folded like a pair of wet umbrellas, and I told Dennis Hoyle we did not take animals. He said her name was Kath, and that he had not been let into anywhere decent for forty years, so could we make an exception for one night. Behind him Maureen was already unloading a holdall from the back of a Cortina, humming the tune they used to dance to on the pier.

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They had been sixteen the summer they swore it, in the car park behind the lifeboat station, with the engine running and a sheep from the Ashcombe farm nosing at a paper bag of chips. Her father had put Dennis on a trawler out of Hull by the Monday. Maureen married a pharmacist from Bridlington and kept the ring in a tea caddy. Kath, it seemed, had come out of the sea fog that same night with her wings already grown, and had followed the pair of them around the county ever since, eating hedges and reminding everyone of promises nobody had meant to keep.

I gave them the attic room with the sloping ceiling and a view of the harbour wall. Kath slept in the back garden under the washing line, tucked against the brickwork like a stone that had decided to be a cloud. At two in the morning I heard them laughing on the landing, quite low, the way people laugh when they are deciding something they have already decided.

At first light I found the gate open and the lead rope lying in the wet grass, knotted in the bowline Dennis used to tie on the trawler. Out past the harbour wall the sheep was rising over the water, one brown wing catching the sun. Upstairs the bed was made, the tea caddy was empty, and on the steamed-up glass of the attic window someone had written in her looping hand: til tonight do us part. She had underlined the word part twice.