Another person came in, entrusting her with their body.
It was time to inspire.
She had everything organised, her station at the ready.
The stencil was set, eagerness sweeping through both.
They got into position, the ritual was set.
The roar of the machine as the needle places in and out.
She began her work on the geometric shapes, the lines and dot work.
Black ink piercing the skin.
They talked about everything in the world, never skipping a mark on the canvas.
A simple design, raw on the pallet.
She stared at it. A peaceful moment. A joyous occasion.
She was happy. They were happy. It was an enthralling experience.
It was a message of family, friends and delight for them to see each and everyday.
For her, it was another piece of her work to travel the world, and a smile on someone’s face.
The tattooist was complete once again.