Black Hebrew lettering tattoo in a clean sans-serif style on the side of the ribs, with a black top lifted at the edge of the frame.

Hebrew lettering on the ribs

Lettering · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a single line of Hebrew script tattooed horizontally on the side of a torso, over the ribs. The letterforms are solid black with even, medium-weight strokes and no shading. The plain pale wall and a black garment held up at the top and left keep the focus on the lettering.

Lettering Ribs Text Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

You were the only girl on the quay who did not want a crown, which is why the fishermen of Porthrey called you the king's daughter, and meant it as a joke. Your father mended nets for a living, and his hands smelled of tar and the cheap paraffin he used on the winch. Every morning you walked the seawall ahead of the boats, counting gulls, and every morning old Tobias Vell raised his cap to you as though you were carrying a sceptre.

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The trouble began in March, when the harbour master announced that a royal clerk would call at Porthrey to collect the tithe of salt cod. Nobody believed a king would come himself. The clerk was a thin man in a grey coat who walked the quay with a ledger under his arm and asked at every stall for the girl who was the king's daughter. Nobody answered him. You did, because you were tired of being a joke, and you told him the king had no daughter in Porthrey, only a girl who knew the tides.

He wrote it down. Three days later he came back with a letter sealed in red wax, saying the king had heard of a daughter who could read the sea and wished to see her before the autumn gales. The quay went quiet. Tobias took off his cap and held it against his chest. You folded the letter twice, put it in your coat, and walked out to the end of the wall where the water was black and cold.

You stood there until the lamp at the point lit itself, then you tore the letter into pieces the size of gulls' feathers and let the wind carry them out over the bar. By morning the clerk's ship had gone, and the fishermen never called you anything but your own name again, which pleased you more than any crown could have.