Here’s this week’s Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer.



“That’s 49.” George sighed, letting the warmth of satisfaction pass through him. It contrasted nicely with the cold outside. So close to done.
The stinging in his leg pulled his attention back to present. The buzz of the needle was the only sound while the tattoo artist worked. The artist leaned back and admired her work. A beautiful black outline of a malamute wrapped around his shin.
“49 Tattoos?”
George chuckled. “Yes. Some people collect license plates. I get decorated. 49 designs on the car. 49 on the skin. Almost done. Just one more state to go.”
“Good luck man.”
He nodded and smiled.
Now how was he going to get the car to Hawaii?

17 thoughts on “Ink

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