Black and grey infinity tattoos with script reading My sisters protector and My brothers keeper on two inner forearms.

Infinity symbols with sibling script on wrists

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two infinity symbols each carry handwritten script beneath them, one reading My sisters protector and the other reading My brothers keeper. The thicker outline on the upper symbol contrasts with the finer single line of the lower one, and both are solid black ink. The photograph is black and white, close and centred on the two forearms resting against each other.

Lettering Forearm Infinity Script text Sister

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The bowline had hung on its nail by the scullery door since the spring gales, and nobody on Carrick Ness would say who had tied it. Morag Reid stood at the kitchen window with her brother's oilskins over one arm, watching the grey ferry shrink towards the mainland. Callum had taken the lobster creels across on Tuesday and had not come back for three days, and the wind had sat in the north the whole time, flat and cold as slate.

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She rubbed her thumb over the inside of her wrist, where the two loops of ink had settled into the skin like stitches. They had gone to the printer in Stornoway in October, the pair of them, and paid for the lines with money from the autumn catch. Her loop was the heavy one, because she had pressed hard on everything since she was small, and his was a fine thread because he had never wanted anything to show. The printer had laughed and said the thick line would last longer. Callum had groaned at the words on hers, and she had walloped him for the ones on his.

At half past four the telephone wire by the pier began to hum, which meant the ferry had tied up. Morag took the bowline down from its nail and walked out along the wet stones. Callum came up the slipway with the creels on his shoulder and his face cracked open with cold, and he set them down without a word and held out his wrist beside hers, the two loops sitting side by side in the grey light.

She slipped the knot she had been practising on the lintel all week over his hand and drew it closed. Neither of them said it would not hold anything, because it was not meant to. It was only meant to go round, and come back, and go round again.