Black script lettering reading Believe across the inner wrist, with the hand curled above it in a fine line lettering style.

Believe script on the inner wrist

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of the inside of a wrist showing the single word Believe in flowing cursive script. The letters are solid black with a thinner, lighter outline on the capital B and the upper loops, giving a slight shadowed effect. The word sits centrally across the wrist against plain pale skin, with the hand curled at the top of the frame.

Lettering Forearm Believe Script Word Wrist

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Come in out of the wet and sit by the stove, because this is a late story and it wants a late listener. There was a sign-writer in Carrow called Osgood Lind who could make a single word lean the way a man leans when he is about to tell a lie. Every shopfront on Gull Street had his gilt on the glass, and the fishmongers swore he could make cod look like it had been properly loved.

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One November night a young woman climbed the stairs above the chandler's with a wooden box under her arm. Inside were three brushes, a tin of lamp black and a folded note from her grandmother, who had once painted the sign of the Drowned Anchor and never been paid for it. She wanted one word on the inside of the old woman's shop door: Believe. Not for the customers. For whoever would have to unlock that door every morning once the grandmother was gone.

Osgood said the word was too plain for a door. He said plain words were the hardest to make look like they meant it. So he drew it first on brown paper, then again, with the B swinging out like a gate and the upper loops thinned so the letters seemed to rise off the glass. It took him four nights. On the fourth, the lamp burned low and he saw that the lettering still caught a fine pale edge of shadow where the light fell wrong, and he decided not to correct it.

When the shutters went up the next morning, the sign took the first grey light off the harbour. The girl stood on the pavement with her hands in her coat pockets and read it twice. Then she went inside and put the kettle on, as if she had always known what it would say.