Tattoos and Tummies.

S.A. has a lot of tattoos. 

A lot.

One arm is covered, there is no room for any more. There are two on the back of her legs, two on her neck, a sentence runs along the other arm and there are others, elsewhere and In between.

S.O. Is pregnant. Five months or so. 

It’s her first child, it’s a boy. There is a fair chance he will grow up wanting tattoos if he is not actually born with them.  

S.0. on the other hand, only has one. A small symbol on the heel of one foot. It is small enough to be a smudge of dirt, precise enough not to be.

S.A. is baking cakes.

S.O. is knitting.

S.A. asks S.0. to help.

She doesn’t ask me.

I am sitting in the corner, writing..

I have no tattoos.