Black script tattoo reading Allons-y across the top of a foot, with purple painted toenails visible below.

Allons-y script on the top of a foot

Lettering · Other · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo spells the word Allons-y in flowing black script, with a large looping capital A and a swooping dash between the two halves. The lettering is solid black ink with smooth, even linework and no visible shading. The foot is photographed from above on a pale background, with the words angled diagonally from the top of the foot towards the toes.

Lettering Other Phrase Script

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The ferry to Saint Ysolde leaves at six whether or not the purser has found his spectacles, so you are the one running down the slipway with the mooring rope still coiled over your shoulder. Gulls lift off the chandlery roof. Marguerite is shouting from the gangway that the tide has turned early, and you shout back the only French your grandfather ever bothered to teach you, the phrase he used every time a boat got ahead of him.

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Allons-y, you call, and throw the rope. It lands across Mr Pell's boots. He has been harbourmaster for thirty-one years and has never once been on time for anything, so he glares at you as if you have personally insulted the sea, then ties the line off to the bollard with a knot so neat it looks like an apology.

The engine coughs. Somebody in the wheelhouse laughs, the gangplank slides back, and for a moment the whole harbour seems to lean forward with you, the way a word leans when it is about to be said properly. The boat does not move. The tide was never early. Your grandfather only said it to make the rest of the town hurry, and he was right about that much.

You step aboard anyway, rope in hand and the water sliding black and slow beneath the planks, and find that the thing you were running towards has been waiting at the rail all along, reading the timetable upside down and pretending not to have seen you come.