Fine line infinity symbol tattoo with the word run in script on the upper back, in black ink.

Infinity symbol with script word on upper back

Fine line · Back · Black and grey · Photo

A close-up photograph of a single infinity symbol tattoo with the word run in cursive script threaded through its right loop. The linework is thin and even, and the ink is a uniform dark grey on the skin. The tattoo sits near the shoulder blade, with a teal fabric strap crossing the top left of the frame and plain, unshaded skin filling the rest.

Fine line Lettering Back Infinity Infinity symbol Script Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

At the wedding of Hannah Corrie and the miller's son, the fiddler stopped halfway through the reel because the bride's brother had not come back from the ridge road. Ellis Corrie was the fastest runner in the parish, and he had wagered the bridegroom a sack of barley that he could fetch salt from the far well and be back before the cake was cut. The guests had watched him go, laughing, his good boots slapping the lane.

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The road ran out from the church gate along the top of the hill, down past the mill, round the standing stone and back up to the gate again, a loop laid on its side like the figure eight. Ellis took it at a dead run. The old women said the loop had no proper end, which was why nobody who ran it ever caught up with his own footprints. He passed the stone and the mill wheel and the black bridge. On the third circuit he saw the bride standing at the gate in her white dress, not moving, the cake still uncut behind her.

He understood then what the wager had been. If he kept running, the wedding would stay exactly where it was, half-danced, the fiddle held in the air forever. If he stopped, the loop would open and let him go home, and the salt would be a small thing in his fist. He slowed at the stone, pressed his palm flat against its cold grey face, and walked the last stretch up to the gate.

Hannah took the salt and tasted it, and said it was the saltiest thing she had ever had, which was true. The fiddler lifted his bow, the reel started again, and Ellis danced with the miller's wife until the lamps burned low. Nobody asked him about the bet, and after that he never once ran past the stone.