Black fine line script tattoo reading I believe in miracles across the lower back, just above the waistband of light denim shorts.

I believe in miracles script on lower back

Fine line · Back · Black and grey · Photo

A black and white photograph of a fine line script tattoo reading "I believe in miracles" across the lower back. The thin, even linework follows a gently descending diagonal, and the skin around it is smooth and softly lit. Light denim is visible along the bottom edge, with the waistband framing the lower part of the composition.

Fine line Lettering Back Script Phrase Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The lift in Fennick House had stopped between the ninth and tenth floors for the third time that week, and Mr Abernethy stood in it with his shopping bag, pressing the button for the tenth and getting nothing but a tired hum. He was eighty-one and had lived on the ninth since the year the block opened, when the concrete was still pale and the council sent men in good coats to cut a ribbon at the entrance.

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He was not frightened, only tired of waiting. So he took the pencil stub from his cardigan pocket, the one he used for crosswords, and while he waited he read the wall where someone had written in biro. Nell Garside, the girl from flat fourteen, had put it there the summer before, when she was seven and had been stuck in the lift with her mother's shopping and no one to talk to. Her letters were small and careful and joined up, and they ran downhill toward the corner because she had run out of wall before she ran out of words. I believe in miracles, it said, and under that, in smaller writing, Mum says it's a load of rubbish.

The lift shuddered, gave a sigh like an old dog settling, and carried him up to the tenth floor as if nothing had happened. The engineer who came the next week said it was a loose cable and charged the council for a day's work. Mr Abernethy said nothing about the wall.

People in Fennick still tell it that the lift runs as long as the words stay on the wall. The caretaker tried to scrub them off with spirit one winter and the lift jammed for a fortnight, so he painted over them, and then painted again. Behind three coats of cream emulsion, if you stand in the corner at the right hour with the light coming low through the stairwell window, you can still see the line of them sloping down toward the floor, like water finding the drain.