Black and white photo of the words James 1:2 in cursive script tattooed on the back of the neck, with hair and a hand blurred in the foreground.

James 1:2 script on the neck

Lettering · Neck · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of the words James 1:2 written in a flowing cursive script in black ink. The lettering has smooth, even linework and sits low on the neck, just below the hairline. The image is monochrome, with the hair and a hand softly out of focus at the top and an empty, dark background that keeps attention on the text.

Lettering Neck Script Word Bible verse Hair Hand

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit nearer the lamp, you, and stop fidgeting with that net. Nobody aboard the Marigold called a bad night a trial in my father's day. We called it weather, and weather was something you swore at and then bailed out from under.

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Old Tom Haskett, who mended nets on the quay at Scarrow Bay, was different. He kept a verse folded in his oilskin pocket, soft as cloth from handling, and when the glass dropped he'd take it out and read it with his lips moving. The lads made a game of it. Count it all joy, they'd mimic, nudging each other over the bait tubs. Tom never rose to it. He only said the words weren't for the lads, they were for the water.

Then came the October squall off the Hollin ledge. The mainsail split like wet paper, the engine coughed and died, and the Marigold wallowed in a trough so deep the gulls stopped crying. Tom sat on the fish hatch with rain running off his nose and started counting. Not the waves. The men. Four, five, six, seven, all breathing. Then the crates of mackerel still lashed in the hold, then the pulls on the hand pump, then the seconds between the lightning and the thunder. He said later it was the only sum he could be sure of getting right.

We limped into harbour at dawn with the pump still going. When they lifted Tom's coat off the hook, the paper had gone to pulp and the ink had bled into a grey smear. But he'd learned the verse long before, and he had scratched its reference into the wheelhouse door with a fishhook: James 1:2. Go and look at it if you don't believe me. The paint's still there, and so is the mark.