Black and white photo of a fine line cursive script word tattooed along the inner forearm, running diagonally from wrist towards elbow.

Fine line cursive script on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a single cursive word tattooed diagonally along the inner forearm, with a small dot above the first letter. The linework is thin and even, with a light, consistent black ink and no shading. The image is black and white, with a plain pale background and a dark sleeve at the top left framing the arm.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Script Lettering

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The letter came up the valley road on the back of a carrier's mule in the week the snow shut the pass, and nobody at the Hollin Gate Inn could say who had sent it. The envelope was thick cream paper sealed with plain wax, and the hand on the front ran uphill across it in a loose, quick cursive, as if the writer had been hurrying or a little afraid. Mrs Ashdown wanted it on the fire. I said it was addressed to the room over the stables, and that room had been empty since October.

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The man who had taken it in autumn was called Mr Vane. He paid six nights in advance, kept his boots by the door like a soldier, and on the second morning walked out into the white with one glove missing and never came back for his bag. We had kept the bag in the back passage, cold and unopened, because nobody liked the idea of going through it. Now there was a letter for him, and the snow was too deep for the carrier to take anything away again.

I carried the letter up the stairs with the lamp in my other hand. The stable room smelt of damp straw and old tallow. I sat on his narrow bed and broke the wax with my thumb. Inside was one sheet with a single word written down the length of it, again and again, each one sloping after the last, the letters growing smaller and fainter until the final one was only a dot of ink where a pen had rested too long.

I read it three times before I understood that it was not an address at all. I folded the sheet, set it on the windowsill beside the lamp, and left the lamp burning for him.