Black fine line heartbeat trace with the script words Just live across the upper chest near the collarbone.

Heartbeat line with Just live script

Fine line · Chest · Black and grey · Photo

A continuous black heartbeat trace runs across the upper chest, with two tall spikes before the line joins the cursive words Just live at its end. The linework is thin and clean, filled with solid black ink and no shading. The close photo sits the tattoo across the collarbone area against pale skin.

Fine line Lettering Chest Heartbeat Ecg line Script Text

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

At Saltcote House the washing was always on the line before six, and Maud Tregarth kept the kettle hot for whoever came up the steps off the shingle smelling of tide. Her lodgers called her Mother Maud. She had one rule that everybody knew, that nobody left the house without eating, and a second, older rule that nobody spoke about, which was to leave the wall alone after dark.

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The wall ran out along the shore to the broken groyne, and folk said a man called Jory Penhallow had walked it every night for forty years, counting the waves. When the sea came in flat and easy he hummed. When it came in heavy, in two great heaves with a lull between, he stopped where he stood and waited until the lull had finished, and only then did he walk on. He told Maud once that the sea kept a time the way a body does, and that a town was only a thing that agreed to keep it company.

The winter his granddaughter Esther came to lodge, she was nine and sullen and had a cough that would not settle. She followed him to the wall without being asked. On the third night a storm came in, and the two great heaves rolled up the stones, and Jory went still. Esther asked what he was listening for. He said he was waiting for the gap. When it came he took her hand and pressed it flat against his own chest, and she felt the knock of him there, steady as the water. Just live, he said, and she thought at first he meant the sea.

In April the cough was gone. Maud found the words chalked on the back step in Jory's square capitals, with a line of small peaks running out beside them like a tide going out to nothing. Nobody rubbed it away, and the rule about the wall was quietly forgotten.