Heartbeat line tattoo on a forearm
Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo
A hand with dark green nail polish is raised against a dark background, with the inner forearm angled across the frame. A single thin black line runs diagonally from near the wrist towards the elbow, with small spikes and peaks that resemble a heartbeat or pulse trace. The linework is crisp and unshaded, and the dark backdrop makes the tattoo stand out clearly.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Sit nearer, lad, and mind the cat, she has no patience for newcomers. You want to know how Brother Wilfred came to measure the bell, and I'll tell it the way it was told to me, which is the only honest way.
Keep reading
The bell of St Oswin's at Kelderby cracked on the feast of the Translation, and the prior wanted it recast before the snow. Wilfred was the only one who could read the sound. He lay on the flagstones of the tower with a length of waxed cord tied to the clapper, and the cord carried every tremor across a board of scraped vellum where he had ruled a line in lamp-black. Each stroke dragged a thread of ink across the skin. Where the crack sang, the line leapt and sank like a man's breath when he is trying not to be heard.
He carried that vellum up the stair each evening, pinned it to the cold wall of the scriptorium, and counted the peaks with a pair of brass dividers. Brother Osric said he was mad, that a bell has no heart to speak of. Wilfred said everything that rings has a heart, it only beats slower. He kept counting until the line ran nearly straight, and then one night the spikes came back, small and quick, the bell singing clean again though nobody had touched the crack.
The recasters came in March and found the metal sound after all. Wilfred kept the strip of vellum. It sits in the reliquary now, if you want to look, though the damp has nearly taken the ink. Go on, put your finger to the glass. Feel how it climbs and drops? That is the bell, still going, the way it went for him.
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