Black fine script lettering reading Love with a football outline beside it, tattooed on the top of a bare foot.

Love script and football on a foot

Lettering · Other · Black and grey · Photo

A black tattoo on the top of a bare foot shows the word Love in flowing script with a loop at the start of the L, followed by a small outlined football. The linework is clean and even, with solid black ink and no shading. The foot rests on a white paper-covered treatment couch, with coral toenail polish visible and a wooden floor in the background.

Lettering Other Love

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Nan, the ball is still stuck in the east window of Hallow Keep, wedged where the stone gave way after the February gales. Dad says to leave it alone, that the ruin has swallowed enough of other people's things, but I have been climbing the broken stair every Sunday to check on it. It is the old leather one from the summer we played on the grass inside the walls, the one with the panels gone grey and Aunt Maggie's biro scrawled across the seventh panel before she moved to Leeds. Her letters loop like the L in her signature, and I can still read the word from the ground if the light is low.

Keep reading

The groundsman, Mr Pell, says the keep was a sheep pen for three hundred years and nobody has ever retrieved a ball from it who did not come down with a cut lip. He let me borrow his ladder anyway on Thursday, on the condition I wore his old gloves and did not tell my mother. I reached the sill with my heel braced against a cracked lintel and found the ball was no longer there. In its place sat a clear freezer bag, weighted with a pebble, and inside it a folded sheet of paper in handwriting I did not recognise.

The note said only: Keep kicking, the wind here is wrong for crossing but it is right for everything else. Sign it with a single letter. I have not told Dad. I have not told anyone. I climb up on Sundays now and sit on the sill with the bag on my knee, watching the valley go green, and I try to work out who knew the ball would end up here, and why they bothered to leave something in its place.