The shop was quiet tonight, just the buzz of neon bleeding through the blinds and the faint hum of my machine warming up. She walked in like she was carrying a secret..small frame, big eyes, nervous hands clutching a slip of paper.

She looked hot though.

Dressed in a small leather skirt that clung to her buttocks like the skirt was made with her ass measurement.

And a small bra top that barely covered her large boobs.

“I want this,” she said, sliding the sketch across the counter. A name. A man’s name.

Her man, obviously.

I nodded, no questions. People ink names all the time…love, loyalty, regret waiting to...