“Nice. But it’s one of the seven deadly sins, you know.”
His tattoo. Ever since I’ve resolved to get a tattoo of my own, I’ve been noticing others’ and posing questions when the opportunity arises.
He’s a delivery man, and I see him 3 or 4 times a week. I had just noticed the tattoo that day, though.
It looked like Chinese writing; a few glyphs (if that’s what they’re called) on the back of his neck. Too high to be hidden by a collar.
“What does your tattoo say?” I asked.
“Pride.” he answered.
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