“We’re trapped in this drawing,” one of the women said, echoing all of our thoughts. “We don’t know how we got here, or why, or if it’s possible to get out.”
I rub my hands over my eyes. “How long have you all been in here?”
“Probably two hours,” the woman replied. “I was just in the studio getting a cover up tattoo when the painting started flashing pink, so of course, we all put down our tools and walked over to see what was happening.”
“I did tell you to stay back,” the traditional tattoo artist said.
The rest of the group rolled their eyes. I felt like I was intruding on something. These people had only been here two hours but were already bonded. I had been here for ten minutes and was clearly the newcomer.
“So we’re just stuck here forever?” I asked. “Is that it?”
“We’d better not be,” the lead tattoo artist said. “I’m the best tattooist located in Brisbane. I’m not about to get stuck inside my own drawing. Especially not one of my worst ones.”
I looked out of the frame, back into the shop. Everything appeared to be very large, which was strange, but also allowed me to see details across the room. For example, another picture frame on the opposite wall of the studio. This one didn’t seem to be glowing, nor did it have figures moving about within it, but it did have something their current drawing didn’t have: a phone. Suddenly, I had an idea.
“We can interact with everything in this drawing, right?” I asked.
The others nodded. One of the women even walked over to the nearest palm tree and knocked on it like it was a door, just to show that she could. The lead tattooist shuffled down to the shoreline and stuck her toe into it. When she held her foot up, it was soaking wet.
“Brilliant,” I said. “Now all we have to do is figure out how to move between drawings.”