Two matching fine line black script tattoos reading faith, each crossed by a long horizontal stroke, on the inner wrists.

Faith script on both wrists

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two matching tattoos of the word faith sit on the inner wrists, one on each arm, with the hands turned palm up. The lettering is a thin, continuous black script line with a long horizontal stroke crossing through the word. The photograph is taken indoors in a car, with the pale skin and black ink clearly contrasted against a dark seat behind.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Faith Cross Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mrs Ada Pringle brought the card back on a Thursday, its corners gone soft from her coat pocket, and laid it on the counter of the Haltwhistle post office as if it were a receipt she meant to dispute. Agnes knew the handwriting. Every week since the spring it had been the same single word in the same looping pencil, addressed to a corporal at a camp near Ripon, and every week Agnes had to tell her it cost sixpence and that nobody sent a word on its own.

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"He'll know what it means," Ada said.

"He'll know it's a word," said Agnes, and then, because the queue behind was shuffling, she took the pencil and wrote it out on the telegraph form in capitals. FAITH. Her hand shook a little, and the crossbar of the T ran on past the letters, a thin stroke drawn with more care than a clerk needed, as if the line itself were carrying something across the gap.

The reply arrived nine days later, which was quick for Ripon. Agnes read it at her desk before she sent the boy out with it, and then read it again. It said only: RECEIVED. SAME. Ada came in that afternoon to ask if there had been anything, and Agnes told her there had been nothing, which was true of the words and not of the rest.

That night, with the shutters down, Agnes sat at her kitchen table and uncapped her fountain pen. She wrote the word on the inside of her left wrist, then on her right, turning each hand palm up under the lamp so the strokes lay straight and the long bar ran level across the skin. Then she sat with her arms on the oilcloth and waited for morning, the way Ada waited for the post.