tattoed

She couldn’t decide on the tattoo. She knew where she wanted it: on her left breast, just above the nipple and curved around it. She’d narrowed the list of possibilities: a dove with an olive branch; a single word – LOVE; a red rose. She was nervous, too. It would be her first tattoo. She hadn’t told her parents. They would be crazy. Especially her father, Stu. He was pretty hard core. She hadn’t told anyone, not even her best friend, Hattie. This was her thing. She had the money. She’d selected the artist – Bunny, a girl on 65th and Warden, who seemed pretty cool. All she needed to do, now, was do it. She pulled into the parking lot, found a space, parked, turned off the car. The moment of truth. It was hot, unseasonably so. She checked her purse, made sure she had enough money; Bunny only took cash. On the way in, she decided on the rose. The rose would be it, it would be good.