Fine line black tattoo of an infinity loop with the words life and love in script, crossed by a shaded feather, on the inside of a forearm.

Infinity feather with life and love on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A fine line tattoo of an infinity symbol with the script words life and love written inside its loops, with a feather running across the centre. The outline is thin and dark, and the feather is softly shaded in grey to show its barbs. The tattoo sits on a forearm against a soft, blurred background in warm, muted tones.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Infinity Feather Script Life Love

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The wind dropped a single grey feather across the windscreen just as Nell reached the cattle grid outside Sallow Wells, and she braked harder than she meant to, the van's tyres hissing on the grit. She sat with the engine ticking and the feather pinned under the wiper, its barbs trembling in the heat rising off the bonnet. Forty miles of empty road still lay ahead, and she had promised her mother she would be back before the dust came up.

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The road out of town ran in a long figure of eight across the flats, crossing itself at the old water tower, so every driver had to choose a loop and trust it would bring them round. Her brother Tomas used to say it was a sign, though he never said of what. He had collected feathers from the hens behind their gran's house and kept them in a biscuit tin with a label in his careful capitals, and when he left for the rigs he took the tin with him and left her the job of feeding the hens.

She picked the feather up by its quill. It was softer than she expected, and when she drew it through her fingers the barbs knitted themselves shut again, the way a loop closes when you stop pulling at it. She thought of the tin, of the wind that had carried this one across three counties to land on her glass, and of how long she had been driving the wrong way round the figure, chasing the far end of it.

She tucked the feather into the glovebox, turned the van at the water tower and took the loop that headed home. Her mother would have the kettle on. Tomas would ring on Sunday, as he always did, and she would tell him about the feather, and this time she would not ask him to come back for the hens.