Black ink lettering reading John 3:30 and He > I on a forearm, shown in a black and white photograph.

John 3:30 lettering on a forearm

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a forearm with black hand-lettered text reading John 3:30 above He > I. The lettering uses bold, slightly uneven strokes with solid black ink and no shading. The image is black and white, with the arm filling the frame against a dark knitted fabric at the top and bottom.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

You are still holding the sign brush when Marnie Oakes walks up the wet field towards the caravans, canvas bag over one shoulder, the Pennock's crest half scraped off her jacket. Thirty-one years you have run this show on borrowed grass and bad coffee. You know the look of someone who has already decided she can do the job better, and you have no argument left that she hasn't heard from your own mouth in the back of a van.

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She is twenty-two and can pin a playing card to a board at fifteen paces with three knives. Last week in Wigan the children stopped following the clown and queued at the back of the tent for her. You tell yourself it is the knives. Then you see the new handbills on her laptop, her name in letters three times the height of yours, and you stop telling yourself anything at all.

That night you take the last tin of black enamel and the good brush and go out to the board by the ring. You paint the verse your mother wrote on the kitchen wall in Bolton, He must increase, but I must decrease, and under it you draw the sign you always used for the accounts ledger, a sharp wedge pointing away from you. It looks crooked. You leave it crooked.

At dawn she finds you asleep in the folding chair with paint on your cuff. She reads the board, says nothing, then slides the wagon keys off the hook and sets them on your knee. You watch her carry the new name out to the gate, and you let the rain soak into the wet paint until nobody could read whose it had been.

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