Conditional Reality

Fishtail Morningstar surveyed his skin, marking it off in 2,000 one-inch squares. He opened a tattoo parlor where artists could ink a square for five hundred dollars. Fishtail didn’t want the money; that went to charity. The price was to insure the artists were serious about their work. For days no one accepted his offer. This did not bother Fishtail. He was prepared to be patient. Eventually a woman came in and inked a personals ad on Fishtail’s arm. She was looking for a good man who liked hiking. Fishtail closed up shop and went into the woods with her.