Black and grey fine line script tattoo reading Agape on the hip, with dark lace visible at the top of the frame.

Agape script lettering on hip

Lettering · Other · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of the word Agape written in flowing cursive script across the skin, with the lower curves of the letters trailing beneath. The linework is thin and even, and the shading is minimal, so the lettering reads as solid outline. The image is black and white, with dark lace fabric along the top edge and soft natural light on the skin.

Lettering Fine line Other Script Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The fleet came in grey under a low lid of cloud, nine boats where there should have been eleven, and Ruth stood at the slip with a coil of tarred twine over her arm, counting hulls the way her mother had counted rosary beads. The Gannet Rose was gone. So was her brother's Constance, and Tom had sailed in her with a grudge still sitting between them like a bad tooth.

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Old Sol Parrish limped down the shingle beside her and said nothing for a while. He had taught her the sheet bend and the sheepshank when she was seven, and he had a way of letting silence do the talking that she had never quite forgiven him for. Every morning he chalked a single word on the slate outside the net loft. Nobody in Polgarrow could read it except the schoolmaster, and he only shrugged.

"Agape," Ruth said, because she had asked him once and he had told her. "The kind of love that doesn't keep a tally."

"Aye." He spat neatly onto the stones. "Your brother's kept one of yours since spring. I know because you've kept one of his."

She had. Tom had torn the mainsail on the Constance and she had refused to mend it, and he had sulked, and she had sulked back. At dusk she climbed the hill to the loft with the sail over her shoulder, sat under the lamp until her fingers cramped, and closed the rip stitch by stitch while the gulls quarrelled over the fish guts below. At first light the Constance came round the point with her engine coughing and Tom at the tiller, alive and cursing. Ruth did not go down to meet him. She left the folded sail on the slipway where he would see it, took the chalk from the ledge, and beneath Sol's word wrote her brother's name, without a single mark beside it.