Thin black lettering tattoo reading beloved on a forearm, beside an open Bible and brown leather case on a brown surface.

Beloved script on a forearm

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A person lies on a brown surface with long reddish hair falling across the face, and one forearm rests near an open Bible. The word beloved is written across the forearm in thin black script lettering with fine, even strokes. A pen, a brown leather case and a white lace garment sit in the frame, and the image is shot from above in natural light.

Lettering Fine line Forearm Script Book Pen Lace Hair

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Tom, the kettle has boiled twice since I sat down to write this, and twice I have let it go cold because the pen would not move. Mrs Hallen from the chapel came round with a pie wrapped in a tea towel and asked after you. I said you were on the back shift, which is true, and she looked at me the way people look at a woman who has run out of kind ways to say a true thing.

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Your father's Bible is open on the table at Ruth, the chapter he underlined the winter before the fall. I have been reading it aloud to the empty room, the way you do when you want to hear someone else's voice. The brown leather case you bought me at Barnsley market sits by my elbow with your pencil stub tucked in its spine. I keep meaning to put the pencil back in your coat, but then I would have nothing of yours to hold while I wait.

The new manager came up the row this morning with a clipboard and a face like a shut door. He said the east face is sound and the cage will run again by Friday. I wanted to believe him so badly that I wrote one word on the back of the gas bill before dinner, in my best joined-up hand, just to see it sitting there in ink. Beloved. You taught me to form the letters that way, with the tails looping, so nobody could mistake careless for careful.

Come home by Friday, love. If the cage runs, I will meet you at the top with the good kettle on and the lamp lit in the window, and you can read me the bit about the wilderness and the well, though I know you will skip the begats. Yours always, Nell.