Fine line black tattoo on a wrist showing a heartbeat line that forms a heart at its start and runs into the word faith in cursive script.

Heartbeat line and faith script on wrist

Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo

A healed or settled fine line tattoo on a wrist, showing a heartbeat trace that begins with a small heart outline and flows into the word faith in joined script. The linework is thin and even, in black ink with no shading, and the design runs diagonally across the wrist. The plain dark background keeps the skin tone and the tattoo in clear focus.

Fine line Lettering Other Heart Heartbeat Script Word Faith

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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 Tom, The machine at the Infirmary arrived on Tuesday in three crates, and Dr Lennox has me feeding the paper through it by hand until I learn its moods. The string sways in its magnetic field like a fishing line in a current, and every beat of a boy's heart shows up as a small peak and fall on the roll. Yesterday a stoker's lad from the Govan yards lay on the couch with wires strapped to his wrists while his mother knelt at the foot of it, saying the same words under her breath.

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I asked her what she was praying. She said it was not a prayer, only the one word she had left, faith, and she said it the way you'd call a dog back from the road. I drew the first trace while she spoke. At the very start of the roll I pencilled a small heart at the head of the strip, the way old engravers marked the first page of a ledger, and then I let the line run out in its jagged peaks.

The lad's heart stumbled twice in the first minute. Lennox frowned, I held my breath, and the mother said faith again, louder, and the string gave one clean sharp spike, then another, then the steady rhythm the doctor was waiting for. Nobody cheered. We simply watched the paper creep out of the slot and curl onto the floor.

I've kept that strip. It's folded in my good handbag, and when I open it the heart is still there at one end, and the rest runs off the edge like a sentence nobody has finished. Write when you can. Your loving sister, Agnes.