Tattoos

This post is a piece of fiction I created from a writing prompt over at Write On Edge. The prompt: "This week, we’d like you to write a piece in which a tattoo figures prominently. Fiction or creative non-fiction. There is a lot to think about: why someone would get one, what they chose, when they got it, what message does the tattoo(s) send? You will have 300 words with which to play."

  

Tattoos

 by Lynn Retzlaff

Hank was big, burly and rough looking. Mandy knew her mother didn’t approve of their relationship but she was in love with him and desperately wanted her mother’s approval. To better acquaint them, Mandy planned a special dinner. Beatrice was punctual as always and was not shy to show her disgust that Mandy’s boyfriend had not yet arrived.

“Please, Mother. He’ll be here. Let me pour you a glass of chardonnay to calm your nerves.”  Mandy suggested.

“I’ll take the chardonnay, but if it’s nerves you think are bothering me, you’re dead wrong young lady. It’s bad enough your boyfriend has those God-awful tattoos, but to be late to a dinner that was planned weeks ago? That’s just unacceptable!”

“He probably had to work late.” Mandy went about her business pulling the roast from the oven and covering the potatoes to keep them warm. Hank may be hard on the outside, but inside he was made of teddy bear stuffing. Her mom simply needed to get to know him better.

            Half past the hour Hank came barreling through the front door. “Sorry I’m late ladies!” he practically sang as he flopped into the head chair at the table.

            Beatrice had downed two glasses of wine while waiting and could no longer bite her tongue. “You should be sorry! You should be downright ashamed! Look at you showing up late when Mandy has put so much work into this dinner, and WHAT is with those tattoos!! One is bad enough but you look like a road-map gone dreadfully wrong!” She focused in on one particular tattoo on Hank’s upper right arm that had bothered her since their first encounter. “And who in the world is Desiree!!”

            “Desiree was my kitten when I was a boy. She died in a house fire...”