Close up of a fine line black script tattoo reading Grace on the inner wrist, with a handwritten note pinned to a pale wall behind.

Fine line script word Grace on the wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A single word, Grace, is written in a thin, looping, cursive script across the inner wrist. The linework is even and single-needle in feel, and the ink is solid black with no shading. The soft-focus background shows a pale wall and a handwritten paper note, with the tattoo sitting centrally across the frame.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Script Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The lift in Hollins House has been broken since Tuesday, so you take the stairs to the eleventh floor with a box of Mrs Okafor's pill organisers balanced on your hip. Nine flights. Each landing smells of bleach and somebody's Sunday roast, and on the fourth floor the window has a crack shaped like a river on a map that nobody has bothered to report.

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Mrs Okafor is not in. Her door is on the latch, and inside the radio is murmuring the shipping forecast to an empty armchair. You leave the box by the kettle and notice the note stuck to the fridge in her careful, looping hand: Grace, ring the council, bring the good scissors. Under it someone else has written in biro, Gone to Tesco, back by four. You look at the word Grace for longer than the note deserves.

The council line takes forty minutes of hold music. You sit on the arm of the sofa, cutting the plastic from a fresh strip of tablets with the good scissors because she asked. When a woman finally answers, she says the lift will be looked at within ten working days, and you say that's fine, Mrs Okafor will manage, which is a lie you learned early in this building.

At four she comes up the stairs herself, one bag of shopping in each hand, breathing hard. She sees the scissors, the open box, the phone face down on the table, and says, "You found them, then." You don't ask what she means. You take the bags from her and she puts the tins away one by one, her hands steady, and you think the note on the fridge was meant for you as much as for her, though neither of you says so.