Close-up of the words In Christ Alone in thin black script lettering across the inner wrist.

In Christ Alone script on a wrist

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A close-up photograph of the phrase In Christ Alone written in a flowing, joined script across the inner wrist. The linework is thin and even, with solid black ink and no shading. The skin is light and the phrase sits centred horizontally across the frame.

Lettering Fine line Forearm Script text Phrase

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The grafting knife had gone blunt by the time Tobiah Wren reached the last row of the Hollin orchard, and the late August wasps were thick over the windfalls. Old Mother Hale had promised him the tree on the north wall if he finished before the first frost, and she had not said what the price would be.

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She came out with a tin of wax and a folded paper. 'Write me a name for it,' she said. He wrote the words she gave him in the loose joined hand the vicar's wife had taught him, and she read them back twice, slowly, as if testing ice. 'In Christ alone,' she said, and laughed at herself. 'My mother sang that over the peas. I never once knew what it meant beyond the tune.'

Tobiah pressed the wax over the cut and bound it with raffia. The tree would take or it would not, and that was the way of grafts. The wood either grew into the stock or died back, and no amount of wanting would make it do either.

Come October, when the Russets came down, the north tree had three green knobs of fruit on a branch that had been bare in spring. Mother Hale tied the paper to it, the ink already faded to grey, and said nothing about the price. Tobiah never asked, and the tree kept on growing.