They didn’t live anywhere near the ocean. Or a lake even. But one afternoon they ditched school and took the bus down to the seedy part of town and got tattooed.
“You look like Popeye,” she’d told him as he sat in the chair, white and sweaty and his fingers digging in to the arm as the electric needle pricked his skin. Over and over. When it was her turn, she changed her mind. Said her dad would definitely kill her if he ever found out she’d gotten one.
He didn’t mind. Figured it was for the best.
Prompt courtesy of Bikurgurl’s 100WW.