Black ink drawing of the word enough in flowing script, with two sweeping curved strokes forming a loose heart-like shape, shown as a tattoo design on paper.

Enough script with swooping strokes

Lettering · Black and grey · Flash

A hand-drawn black ink tattoo design on white paper showing the word enough in looping script, with two long tapering curved strokes sweeping above and below the lettering. The linework is solid and uneven in weight, with no shading or fill, and the composition is centred and vertical against a plain background.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dearest Mother, the ink froze in the pot again last night, so forgive the wobble in this line. The Chancellor has commissioned a new seal for the mint at Iseld, and when he saw the old one he said it was too modest for a kingdom as rich as ours. Master Oswin handed me the brush, since my hand is the only one left in the scriptorium that can still loop a proper g.

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He wants the word ENOUGH cut across the coin, which Master Oswin says is a joke at the king's expense, though nobody has dared to laugh. I drew it first in ink on good vellum. Two long strokes sweep above and below the letters like the herons that stand in the Tamber marsh, one rising, one diving, and the word sits between them as if it had been caught. The Chancellor frowned at the strokes and asked what they were for. I told him they were the birds that come back every spring whether or not anyone has invited them.

Yesterday my nib split on the second n and left a blot across the lettering. I meant to start again, but the blot had dragged a thin tail down toward the foot of the page, and it looked so much like the heron's dive that I left it. The Chancellor came in at dusk, saw it, and said nothing for a long while. Then he asked me to draw the same stroke again, slower, and I did, and he signed the vellum without another word about richness.

I have kept the blotted sheet folded in my sleeve. Tell Father the herons are back on the marsh, and that I am coming home at the new moon, whatever the Chancellor says. Your loving daughter, Wren.

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