It was far from necessary to inquire if the woman was from around here, not only would she know at least of her-she didn’t blend in with the plain Jane’s of America-and she knew the local tattoo artists-none of them had produced a piece like that. Not to mention, Chicago didn’t produce works of art like the woman herself. “Beautiful piece,” a tap to her chest before pointing to the woman’s back to clarify, “Certainly not a local artist, non?”

    ❝ hold up. . .hold up,     i’m seeing something. ❞