Close-up of small black serif lettering reading bibliophile along the inner wrist, with an open book held above it.

Bibliophile lettering on the inner wrist

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A hand holds an open paperback above the wrist, which carries the word bibliophile in small black serif lettering running diagonally along the inner forearm. The lettering is crisp and solid with even weight, and the skin is pale with no visible colour. The background is a wooden deck, a lattice panel and grass, all softly out of focus.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Marjorie,

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You will not believe what fell out of the Penguin I bought at the Rotary jumble on Saturday. Between pages two hundred and six and two hundred and seven, pressed flat as a fern, was a bus ticket from Harrogate to Ripon dated 1974. On the back, in pencil, someone had written the word bibliophile and underlined it twice, the way we used to underline things we were proud of knowing.

Miss Pargeter used to say that none of us were bibliophiles, only readers who had not yet learned to be ashamed of it. I thought of her when I read the rest of the marginalia. Whoever owned this book argued with the author on nearly every page. "No, he would not," beside a sentence about the sea. "Tell that to her mother," beside a chapter on inheritance. The arguments grow sharper towards the end, and then they stop halfway through a sentence about a lighthouse.

I have been wondering whether it was you who wrote it. You always had the neatest hand and the worst opinions. If it was, you owe me a proper dinner at the reunion, and you can tell me which of us was the bibliophile and which was merely the one who kept the library's copy of Jane Eyre for three terms and never once admitted it.

The bus ticket is in my handbag now. I thought about posting it back to the address on the flyleaf, but the flyleaf has been torn away, so I am keeping it for you. Come to the reunion on the fourteenth and bring the pencil.

Love, Ann

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