Handwritten black script reading "with you, I am home." in a fine line lettering design on a cream background, shown as a tattoo design rather than on skin.

Handwritten "with you, I am home" script

Lettering · Black and grey · Flash

The image shows the words "with you," on the first line and "I am home." on the second, written in a loose, cursive hand with black ink on a cream background. The linework is thin and even, with a long looping flourish running under "with you," and the letters vary slightly in height and slant. The design is entirely black and grey, with no shading or colour.

Lettering Fine line Script Word Quote Handwriting

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The net came aboard at first light heavy with haddock, and while the deckhands swore and sorted, you thought of nothing but the kitchen in Grimsby: the blue mug with the chipped lip, the window over the sink that fogs first every morning. Mick Haverty called you soft for staring at the horizon like a man waiting on a bus. You let him have the last of the ginger biscuits and kept your thoughts where they were.

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By the second week the galley pad had run out, so you wrote on the back of a fish-hold docket, the pencil blunt from being chewed. You wrote the way your mother taught you, leaning forward, tails long, as if the words had somewhere to run. You told Ruth about the gannets that followed the trawl like dogs behind a butcher's cart, and about the cook who hummed hymns with the radio switched off. You did not tell her the sea had lain flat and grey for six days, and that the swell kept breathing under the hull like something asleep.

The docket went over the rail in a gust off the Dogger Bank before you could fold it. You watched it turn white, then gone, and for a moment you were angry enough to want to throw your boots after it. But the words were already in you, and you found you could say them to the grey water without any ink at all: with you, I am home.

Ruth was on the quay when the boat came in on Thursday, holding the blue mug in both hands as if it were the one thing in Grimsby worth keeping dry. She didn't ask about the docket. She only looked at you, so you said it out loud anyway, and the gulls carried it up over the harbour wall.