Black fine line script tattoo reading omnia mutantur nihil interit across the inner forearm.

Latin script quote on a forearm

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two lines of flowing black cursive script read omnia mutantur nihil interit, with long looping ascenders and tails linking the words. The linework is fine and even, with no shading or fill. The ink is solid black on pale skin, and the lettering fills most of the frame against a plain background.

Lettering Fine line Forearm Script Latin text Quote Cursive Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mrs Okafor's starter had been alive longer than the shop, which was why Dev never let anyone else feed it. At ten to four he stood at the steel bench with the jar tilted toward the bulb, watching the bubbles rise and sag through the grey paste like something breathing under a sheet. His grandmother had brought it over in a jam jar wrapped in a tea towel, and he had kept it going through two floods, a power cut and the winter the oven broke.

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He weighed the flour in the dark, the scale's green numbers the only light in the back room apart from the glow of the proving cabinet. Rye, then strong white, then water still cold from the tap. Behind him the first van of the morning reversed into the lane, beeping, and somewhere a pigeon shifted on the guttering. He had decided, years ago, that nothing in a bakery was ever really finished. The flour went into the bowl and became dough; the dough went into the oven and became bread; the bread went out the door and became somebody's breakfast, then somebody's crumbs for the birds on the wall.

When the loaves came out at half five, their crusts crackled as they cooled, and the whole street smelt of toast and burnt sugar. Dev cut the heel off the first one and held it out to the woman who had been waiting on the step since before the lights came on. She was a stranger, in a coat too thin for January, and she looked at the bread the way people look at a letter they have been afraid to open.

He saved a spoonful of starter before he locked up, the way he always did, and tipped it into a clean jar. Tomorrow it would be the same thing, only different. He pressed the lid down, wrote the date on the masking tape, and went home to sleep.