Black ink line drawing of an infinity symbol with the word love in script, a feather at the lower right and a second script word on the right loop, shown as a tattoo design with no body placement.

Infinity symbol with feather and script

Fine line · Black and grey · Flash

A fine black line drawing of an infinity symbol, with a script word reading love on the left loop and a second script word on the right. A feathered quill-like shape with detailed, feathery strokes hangs from the lower crossing point of the infinity line. The linework is single-weight and unshaded, drawn on a warm, cream-toned background with soft vignetting.

Fine line Lettering Infinity Feather Love Script Lettering

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The feather was always the first thing to slide out of the envelope. Mrs Oddie at the bottom cottage left them under the flat stone by the forest gate, one a week, and I carried them up the lane to the box at the crossroads without asking whose hand had written the words beneath. Eleven years I had done that walk. Every letter went out from the village, into the beech wood, and somehow came back to the same stone, as if the trees kept the stamps.

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That October the envelope was thicker. Inside was a sheet of squared paper folded into a figure of eight, and on it, in a hand I half knew, someone had written love twice, once on each side of the crossing point, with a grey feather drawn beneath like a pen that had run dry. I stood on the lane with the wind lifting my coat and turned it over. No name, no stamp, only the shape looping back on itself, like a path a walker takes when she has forgotten which way home is.

I took it up to the forest gate anyway and pushed it under the stone. Then I sat on the wall and waited, which I had never once done in eleven years. The light went thin and yellow over the bracken. Somewhere in the beeches a bird I could not name began the same three notes again and again, and I found I had started counting them, the way you count when you are deciding whether to stay or to go.

When I came back at dawn the stone was lifted and the letter was gone. In its place lay a single feather and a new sheet, short and plain: Come round the other side. You have been reading the loop from the wrong end. I laughed out loud, alone on the lane, and set off into the trees.