The Tattoo Man

I stood next to a muscular man on a knoll overlooking the ocean. It was evening, the sun had just gone down and the light was what photographers refer to as the magic hour. A rosy glow of light bathed our skins. The man wore a sleeveless shirt his tan, muscular arms stood out. On his right arm was a tattoo. I asked him about the design. On the right side, a heart tattooed in blue ink stood out against his tan skin. To the left a red knife stood on its end with its blade pointing skyward. He explained that he asked the artist to tattoo it backwards so that when it healed the red would flow to the left. We stood there in the warmth of the evening, then turned around and walked down the back side of the knoll as a splash of a wave gently fell on us. He said he liked living on the backside of the knoll where he was protected from the brunt of the ocean.