Black script lettering on the ring finger of a clenched hand, sitting just above a dark metal band.

Black script name tattoo on a ring finger

Lettering · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a clenched hand with a black script word tattooed on the ring finger, sitting just above a dark metal band. The lettering has smooth, even linework with light grey shading in places. The hand fills most of the frame against a leopard print fabric background.

Lettering Hand Script Name Ring

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mrs Pryce had kept the wire at Saltcombe for nineteen years, and in all that time nobody had ever asked her to send a name alone. Messages came in full: ship sighted, mother poorly, come home Tuesday. On Thursday afternoon her pencil hovered over a blank form while a young man in a wet oilskin stood dripping on the mat and would not say what else he wanted.

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"Just the one word," he said. "Ellen will know it." He had printed it in careful capitals on the back of a fishing ticket, the letters joined like a row of fence posts. She read it upside down before she could stop herself: a woman's name, and beneath it a second, smaller word she had been taught never to read aloud at a counter. She counted the words under her breath, as the tariff demanded, and charged him for one.

The wire went out at four. Ellen Teague came down the Esplanade the next morning in her Sunday coat, not running, which Mrs Pryce thought a good deal more frightening. She stopped at the glass door and looked at the ticket the young man had left on the counter, then pressed her gloved palm flat against the pane as though testing it for heat.

The boats went out on the tide and came back on the tide, and Mrs Pryce sent perhaps two hundred more telegrams before the autumn. None of them, she noticed, ever held a single word again. Ellen came in every Friday for the rest of the year, bought one stamp, and never once asked whether anything had come back.