Fine line black script reading Believe with a small bird silhouette on the side of a finger, joined by a thin trailing line.

Believe script with bird on finger

Fine line · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a hand with the word Believe written in thin black cursive along the side of one finger. A small black silhouette sits at the lower end of the script, connected to the lettering by a fine curved line. The background is plain pale grey, and the wearer has dark navy nail polish and a gold ring on the adjacent finger.

Fine line Lettering Hand Believe Script Silhouette Bird

Find an artist for this

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

The kite had caught in the damson tree again, and Ada stood on the wall with her grandfather's penknife, sawing at the string without cutting her own fingers. Below her, Grandad pretended not to watch. He had built the kite the spring before from a bin bag and two bamboo canes, and it had never once flown higher than the greenhouse roof.

Keep reading

"Leave it," he called. "Something will want it more than we do."

She didn't leave it. She worked the line loose hand over hand until the kite dropped into the long grass. A small brown bird was perched on the lowest branch, tail flicking, watching her with the seriousness of a clerk checking a ledger. When she reached for the string again it lifted off and dragged the thread after it, taut and thin as a hair, up over the wall and into the pale sky.

That evening Grandad found her in the potting shed with a carpenter's pencil, writing the same word over and over on the back of a seed packet. Her letters wobbled. He sat on the upturned crate and said nothing for a while, then took the pencil from her and drew a little bird at the end of the line, so small she had to lean close to see it.

She rubbed the word out twice before it looked like her own handwriting. In the morning she pinned the packet above the door, and the wren came back for the crumbs on the step, as if it had only ever been waiting for someone to ask.