Black and grey fine line script reading "be still" on a pale inner forearm, photographed against a dark top.

Be still script on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

The photograph shows a fine line script tattoo reading "be still" across the forearm, with the words joined by a flowing connecting stroke. The linework is thin and even, in solid black ink with no shading, and the lettering has a handwritten feel. The image is monochrome and the arm fills the centre of the frame against a dark top, with the upper part of the person's head cropped out.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Script Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The ewes had been moved down to the low field before the first hard frost, and Agnes Tully walked them there alone because her father's hip would not take the slope. By the time she came back up the lane the wind had gone round to the north and the sky over the ridge was the colour of pewter. She found her brother Eli at the gate of the top paddock, halfway through mending wire with cold fingers, swearing at the pliers.

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"Hold still," she told him, because he kept shifting his weight from foot to foot, and because she had learned from their mother that a frightened animal settles only when the hand on it does. He stopped. The wire went tight. Neither of them spoke while the frost came down over the stubble and the rooks went quiet in the elms.

When the gate was fast they sat on the wall and ate the heel of the loaf she had carried in her coat. Eli said the lambing would come early, that the old ram had been restless all week and the dog would not leave the barn door. Agnes said nothing. She had watched the ewes shift and circle through the afternoon, the way they did when the weather was about to break, and she had learned that hurrying them only made them run into the hedge.

In the morning the snow lay a hand deep and the paddock was white and unmarked. Eli came out to the barn and found the ewes bunched in the corner, every one of them calm, the lambs already dry and standing. He went back to the house and told their father, who only nodded and reached for his stick, and Agnes, pulling on her boots by the range, thought that stillness was not the same as doing nothing.