Black script tattoo reading endless love across the middle finger of a hand, with pink nails and a dark floral background.

Endless love script on a finger

Lettering · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a hand with the words endless love written in thin, flowing black script across the top of one finger. The linework is fine and even, with the lowercase letters joined by connecting strokes, and the ink appears dark grey to black. The finger fills the centre of the frame, with a pink-nailed fingertip at the right and a dark floral fabric in the background.

Lettering Hand Script Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dennis Mollard had lettered shop fronts in Whitstable for forty years, and he could read a customer's hand from the way they held a pencil. So when Ada Pyke came in with a folded scrap of paper and asked for two words on a tin lid, he did not argue. He asked her to say them twice.

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The scrap said endless love in her sister's round hand, copied from a card. The tin had held fishing hooks for her late husband, and she wanted the words across its lid where his thumb had always rested. Dennis chose his old sable, three hairs short of a full belly, and thinned black enamel with turpentine. The first attempt sagged at the loop of the l. The second looked like someone else's writing. On the third he let the brush run as fast as his wrist allowed, joining each letter to the next, and the strokes came out thin and even as cotton.

Ada watched without speaking. When he finished she tilted the lid toward the harbour window and said it was too neat, that Frank had never written a tidy word in his life. Dennis said that was the trouble with endless things; nobody ever wrote them slowly enough. She laughed, then stopped, then paid him in coins from her apron pocket and counted each one onto the bench.

After she left he sat with the tin until the enamel set. Then he took his order book, wrote the same two words in his own cramped hand on the back page, and tore it out. He folded it once and slid it under the lid, where it would stay. He kept the sable clean for the next job, and the one after that, and never again lettered anything without first asking someone to say it twice.