Fine line tattoo on a forearm showing an outlined red heart, a black heartbeat line and the script word Michael.

Heartbeat line and script name on forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

The tattoo shows an outlined red heart at the upper left, joined to a thin black heartbeat line that runs down the forearm and becomes the cursive script word Michael. The linework is fine and uniform, with no shading, and the red heart is the only colour against the black ink. The arm fills most of the frame diagonally, with a dark sleeve at the top right and a patterned bag at the lower left.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Heart Heartbeat line Script Name

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Michael,

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The lock at Hythe took us an hour this morning because the gates stick in the cold, and I stood on the beam with the windlass, counting the way you taught me, one turn for the paddles and one for the sluice, until the water came up under the Ada Mae like something breathing. The kingfisher was on the balance beam again. I think it is the same bird, though you would say all kingfishers look like the same blue dropped into a river.

Mrs Garside at the moorings asked after you. I told her the stove draws better than it did and that you are the best hand at the tiller on this stretch, which is true, even if you should be writing these letters rather than me. She laughed and said you always did make a sentence sound like a shanty.

The thing I didn't tell you is that I found the old logbook under the bunk. Your pencil runs down the pages in a wavering trace, a little peak for every mooring you made, the lines climbing and falling like a chart of a river seen from above. Beside the entry for the Severn you wrote the word home and underlined it twice. I used to think you were only being silly about the squiggles. Now I think it is a map of where you have been, and of where you keep coming back to.

I'll pull in at Cricklade on Thursday and leave the kettle on. There is a red crayon heart on the inside cover that you drew when you were nine and still swear was your cousin's doing. Come home the slow way, and bring the logbook.

Love, Ruth