Fine line black script reading free on the back of a hand, which rests on a bare shoulder in a denim shirt.

Free script on the back of a hand

Fine line · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

The photograph shows a small tattoo of the word free in thin, cursive black script across the back of a hand, running towards the wrist. The linework is fine and even, with a slight flourish on the final letter, and the ink is solid black with no shading. The hand rests on a bare shoulder, with a turquoise ring and beaded bracelets visible, and the face is not shown.

Fine line Lettering Hand Free Script Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The ink from the fountain pen had gone blue on Ada's fingers before the bell at the colliery gates rang for the last shift. Her brother Tommy bent over her hand at the kitchen table, tongue between his teeth, the way the Sisters had taught him to loop his capitals at St Joseph's. He wrote the word slowly, the f hooked high, the e tailing off into a flourish he said was for luck. 'Keep still,' he said. 'It's not a letter if it smudges.'

Keep reading

Outside, the wind came off the spoil heaps and rattled the tin on the privy roof. Their father had come home that morning with a brown envelope in his coat and had not opened it, only set it on the mantel behind the clock as if it might go off. Ada had not asked. Everybody in Hartley Row knew what a brown envelope meant in a year like this one, and the men had been standing about the Co-op for weeks like cattle at a gate.

When the ink dried she turned her hand over and over under the lamp. The word ran from the knuckles towards the wrist, thin as cotton thread, and it looked less like a boast than a question. Tommy watched her. 'It won't wash off for a week,' he said. 'Mam will go spare.'

Ada did not wash it. The next morning she walked down to the pit gates with her hand held open at her side, and when the gatekeeper asked her business she simply showed him, the word facing out. He read it, then looked away towards the winding wheel. Behind him the cage hung still, and for the first time in her life the village was quiet enough to hear only the birds.