Tattoos are the ultimate accessory. Who Brett and Lauren Where Wildfire Ink When Early afternoon. Warning Brett might do just a teensy bit of cussing.
As he walked across the street towards the small traffic way of people, Brett felt restless. He had been having dreams about the fire again. Every once in a while they would rear their ugly head and make damn sure that Brett never forgot it. Usually after he had one of these dreams, he got drunk as he could, as fast as he could. He always managed to block out the terror and the longing for someone to hug him and tell him it's okay. This time was different though, This time he actually wanted to do something...permanent. Something that could fore the dreams away. As if by some odd hand of fate, he saw a tattoo parlor coming up on his right. He immediately started to head that way with a new determined pace. His stream of logic was that, maybe if he got a tattoo, the dreams would accept it as a sign of permanent remembrance and leave him the hell alone.
He walked into the shop, unsure of what to do next. A tattoo was a serious thing. You had to choose what you wanted carefully, because it would stick with you until you died. He wanted something big, noticeable, and something with no color. He thought that color would take away from the reverence he was giving to the tattoo. He looked around at the different tattoos and couldn't decide on one that even looked remotely fitting. He stood there trying to find the one tattoo that would work.