Close up of a fine line lettering tattoo of the word free on the back of a woman's hand near the wrist, with a denim shirt and bracelets visible.

Fine line word tattoo on the hand

Fine line · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

The photo shows a woman with one hand raised to her shoulder, displaying a small black script tattoo reading free across the back of the hand near the wrist. The linework is thin and even, with no shading, and the lettering is set on a slight diagonal. The image is in soft natural light with a pale blue denim top, turquoise rings and beaded bracelets, and the face is cropped out of frame.

Fine line Lettering Hand Script Word Free

Find an artist for this

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

Dear Marguerite,

Keep reading

The ferry from Calais was late again, so I have been sitting on a bollard at Dover with a flask of tea gone cold and your postcard in my lap. You wrote that I should stop apologising for leaving and start noticing what I had left behind. I have been trying. The gulls here are louder than the ones in Lyme, and the wind off the harbour sorts through my hair like it is looking for something it dropped.

The customs officer asked me the purpose of my visit. I said I was going to see my sister, which is true, and then I said I was going to find out whether I could stand being a person who simply goes, which is also true, and he looked at me over his glasses for a long moment and waved me through with the stamp still in his hand. I think he had seen that face before, the one that has been carrying a suitcase for too long.

You will laugh, but I have something to show you when I see you. On the back of my hand, near the wrist, I had a little word done at a studio above a launderette in Folkestone. It is only one word in fine black script, sloping slightly as if it is walking downhill on purpose. The man who did it asked if I was sure, and I said I had been sure for eleven years and only just found the nerve. He wiped the skin, bent over my hand with that thin needle, and did not once hurry.

Write back to me at Aunt Jeanne's. I want to hear everything about the garden and the cat and whether the blue door has finally been painted. And tell Pierre he owes me a bottle of Muscadet.

Yours, with the sea between us and nothing to hold me back, Anne