Black and grey realism tattoo of folded dollar bills with banknote lettering on the upper arm, with script text of the Lord's Prayer beneath it.

Folded dollar bills and Lord's Prayer on upper arm

Realism · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A large tattoo of folded and layered banknotes forms a three-dimensional block, with partial banknote lettering, a circular seal and fine cross-hatched shading. Below it, script text reads The Lord's Prayer, beginning Our Father, who art in heaven. The piece is shaded in black and grey and sits on the upper arm or shoulder against a dark outline.

Realism Upper arm Dollar bill Banknote Money Script Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The notes came out of the biscuit tin on a wet Tuesday, when the fair had pitched on the flat ground outside Ledbury and the generator was coughing like an old dog. Nell Parrish smoothed each dollar on the trestle with the side of her thumb, the way her father had taught her, then folded it over and over until a stack of paper bricks stood up in the lamplight. Nobody on the midway paid for these. They paid for the look on a man's face when the wind took his winnings from the table and the tower stayed put.

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Her father had won the first bill off a sailor in a Baltimore card room in 1952, or so he said, and he never once spent the rest. He kept them folded in the tin with a torn page of the Book of Common Prayer, which he could recite by heart and did, most nights, under his breath while he counted the float. Nell never knew which words were the money's and which were his.

A boy from the ghost train came by with a sixpence and asked what the tower was for. She told him it was for keeping. He turned the block over in his grubby hands, frowning at the printed ribbon of letters that ran across the folds, and read them out slowly, the way children do with a language they half own. Then he gave her back the sixpence and asked if she would fold him a bird instead.

She did. She had never folded a bird before, and the first one came out crooked and lopsided, but he carried it off across the wet grass like a prize, and Nell sat with the tin in her lap and the rain ticking on the canvas, and for the first time in years she didn't count a thing.