Small solid black infinity symbol tattoo on the inner wrist of a hand with French manicured nails.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Infinity symbol on the inner wrist

Hand · Black and grey · Photo

A photograph of a hand turned palm up, showing a small black infinity symbol on the inner wrist. The symbol is a single bold outline with a solid, even fill and sits at a slight angle near the wrist crease. The warm skin tones and soft natural light create a sun-lit background of pavement, with the white-tipped nails visible at the top left.

Hand Infinity symbol Wrist Hand

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The figure-eight at Saltcombe Pier had been losing its nerve for a decade, and by October the council wanted it gone before the winter gales got into the steel. Ronnie Pask had kept it running since he was nineteen, greasing the bogies on Tuesdays and swearing at the brake shoes. On the last night he climbed the ladder at the crossover, where the track rose over itself in a long black loop, and sat with a flask of stewed tea and a spanner across his knees.

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Forty years of carriages had passed that crossing point twice each ride, once going out and once coming back, so every bolt there had been touched more often than anything else in the town. He had a theory, which he had never told anyone, that the crossover was the only honest part of the ride. Everywhere else the track went somewhere. Here it simply came back to where it had been, then went round again, and nobody on the wooden seats ever seemed to mind.

At half eleven his granddaughter Maisie came up the pier with two cups from the chip shop and a pencil behind her ear, wanting to see the thing switched off for good. She sat on the girder beside him and counted the cars on the siding below. 'Go on then,' she said. 'Run the last one.' He pulled the lever and the old motor coughed, the lamps flickered on along the rail, and the single empty car rattled up the first hill, round the bend, over the crossing, and down into the dark, then back again, round and round until the lamps went out one by one.

Maisie asked him afterwards whether it would have gone on for ever if they had left it. Ronnie said it would have needed oil. She said that was what he said about everything, and they sat listening to the sea until the tide turned.