Small black fine line tattoo of an arrow with the word believe in script on the ribs, beside black lace underwear.

Arrow and believe script on the ribs

Fine line · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A small tattoo sits on the side of the ribcage, showing a feathered arrow whose shaft runs into the lowercase word believe in cursive script. The linework is thin and even, in black ink with soft grey tones in the feathers and arrowhead. The photograph is taken close up with a dark vignette, and the edge of black lace underwear crosses the upper part of the frame.

Fine line Lettering Ribs Arrow Believe Script Word

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Nell, the ferry didn't come again this morning, so I've had the whole afternoon to look at the tide tables and think about you. Father says the mainland boats are only late because of the fog, but I counted the fog banks from the window and there are only three, and they keep moving the wrong way. I've pinned your last card above the kettle where the steam can't reach it. The edges have gone soft, but the handwriting is still sharp enough to read in the dim.

Keep reading

You asked what I do with my evenings now. I walk the shingle to the point where the old wooden marker used to stand, the one with the painted arrow that pointed out to sea. The storm took it in February. Mr Coyle from the chandlery says the council will put up a steel one, but nobody has come to measure. I stood there last night and the arrow was still in my head, pointing somewhere past the breakwater, and I wrote the word on my palm in pencil so I wouldn't lose it in the wind. Believe. It looked foolish once I'd written it down, like a sentence from a schoolbook.

The light came on at dusk, the way it always does, and I climbed up to trim the wick. Through the glass I could see a single lantern bobbing out past the rocks, low and steady, not the fishing boats' yellow but something whiter. I didn't wave. I just watched it hold its line against the swell until the dark took it. I think it was the ferry after all. I'll tell you properly when I see you, and you can tell me I'm daft.