Fine line black script lettering reading geronimo on the upper arm, photographed close up against a floral fabric.

Geronimo script on upper arm

Fine line · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph shows the word geronimo in thin, cursive script on pale skin. The fine, even linework slopes upwards diagonally across the arm, with the letters in dark, uniform black ink. The image has a warm tone, and a floral patterned fabric fills the background on the left.

Fine line Lettering Upper arm Script Word Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit down by the wall, you'll get wasp on your sleeve otherwise. Right. The Pell orchard runs down to the river on the Hereford side, and in August of the year the bridge washed out, there was a boy called Tomasz Ferrier who thought the highest branch of the old Bramley was the only sensible place to think. He'd climb it at dusk with a jam sandwich and a torn atlas, and from up there he could see the whole valley turn the colour of a bruised plum.

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Now, the Bramley was not a tree that liked company. Its lower limbs had been cut back by old Mrs Pell's husband the winter before he died, and the stump of the top one still stood like a finger. Tomasz noticed that the drop beyond the last sound branch went straight to the hay meadow below, and a meadow, in his reckoning, was as good as a feather bed. He practised. He jumped from the wall first, then the water butt, then the cart, and each time he landed in the hay with a yell that the sheep took personal offence at.

So one evening he climbed to the final fork, held the trunk with both arms, and looked down at the soft gold of the field. He could hear his sister calling him for supper across the orchard. He took a breath, and what came out of him, half laughing and half terrified, was Geronimo! He went off the branch like a pear dropped from the hand.

He landed in the hay, and the sheep looked up, and Tomasz lay there grinning at the sky, spitting out straw. The word had gone up into the apple boughs and he swore for years afterwards that the tree shook a little, pleased with him, and dropped its best fruit all over the grass the morning after.