Black script reading love and family within an infinity symbol, with a shaded pink feather, tattooed on a forearm.

Infinity with love and family script on a forearm

Lettering · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A black infinity symbol loops across the forearm, with the word love written in black script on the left loop and family on the right. A shaded pink feather sits across the centre, with soft red tones and a darker shadow beneath it. The black linework is clean and the feather is softly graded, with the composition running horizontally along the arm.

Lettering Realism Forearm Infinity Feather Script Love Family

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The fair leaves Shrewsbury before the rain has finished, and you are still counting ring toss pegs in the mud when the lorry sounds its horn twice. Dilys leans out of the cab with a pink feather caught in her hair. She swears it came from the coconut shy, where the man sold them for a penny a go, but you know better. It came from the bag of goose down you split open in the rifle gallery last winter, when the lamp blew out and the whole tent smelled of wet pennies.

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Your grandfather ran the big wheel for thirty years. He kept his ticket stubs in a biscuit tin, and on the back of each one he wrote a word he had decided was worth keeping. Love went on the first, family on the second. He said the two could go round forever like the figure eight painted on the banners, because a loop never has an end to find. Your mother thought this was the kind of thing a man said after too many candyfloss cones in the rain.

Dilys wants to throw the feather out of the window into the hedge, where the crows can have it. You take it from her before she can and turn it over in your fingers. It is lighter than a stub and already bent where it was crushed in her hair. You fold it into the inside pocket of your coat, next to the tin, and tell her to start the engine.

Behind you the field is empty except for the tyre tracks and one guy rope snapping in the wind. You pull the last stub from the tin, read the two words in your grandfather's hand, and say them out loud to nobody, once for each side of the loop. Then the lorry pulls onto the lane, its lights swing across the hedge, and you stop counting anything at all.