The way he covered the tattoo wasn’t.
Ten minutes later, we were leaving for the park. Brad wore jeans, a long-sleeved button-down, and lightweight gloves because some of his ink extended onto his hands.
It wasn’t cold enough for any of them.
That was Brad.
Some of his ink extended onto his hands.
***
At home, our three children knew every skull, flower, crooked line, and strange shape covering their father.
Outside, nobody saw them.
« But I like your pictures, » Molly complained.
Brad opened the front door.
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