Black fine line script reading faith with a thin trailing line on the inside of a wrist, set against purple and pink petunias.

Faith script with fine line on a wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A hand and wrist show the word faith written in a flowing, handwritten-style script in black ink, with a fine single line running out from each end of the word. The linework is thin and even, with the lettering shaded in a soft dark grey-black. The wrist fills the left and centre of the frame, with blurred purple and pink flowers in the background.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Faith Script Word Line Wrist

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The fog came off the water at Wrenfield Halt on the third night of the wrong timetable, and by six Abel Cropper had given up on his lamps. The single line ran out of the station both ways, thin as a pulled thread, and past the second signal it stopped being visible at all. Mrs Pell's boy was on the late goods somewhere out there, and the signalman had gone home with a cough.

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Abel took the chalk from his waistcoat and wrote one word on the slate beside the ticket hatch, pressing hard, then went to stand at the platform end with his hand on the cold lamp post. He had no notion whether a word on a slate could carry sound or steel. His mother used to say faith was what you did when the sensible thing was not on offer, a sentence he had found hard to carry around for forty years.

The driver, a man called Joseph Stannard who had never once stopped at Wrenfield, later said he saw nothing ahead but a pale stroke rising out of the dark and running straight along the rails, as if someone had drawn it to show him the way. He eased the brake and followed it in at walking pace. The boy stepped down from the guard's van with soot on his cheek and asked why the station was so quiet.

Abel never rubbed the word off. The company painted over the slate in the spring, but by then the village had taken to saying that the faint line a person can see only when they are already moving toward something was the Wrenfield line. Stannard swore it ran on past the station into the fields, and that he could still follow it in the dark.