Close-up of a hand holding a cigarette over pink satin, with the words LOVE YOU in small black lettering tattooed across the fingers.

Love you lettering on the hand

Lettering · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

A close-up photograph of a hand holding a lit cigarette against a pink satin fabric, with a dark background. The words LOVE YOU are tattooed in small, simple black capital letters across the finger, with fine, even linework. The image is in greyscale-like tones with warm pink fabric and a silver ring with a stone visible on the same hand.

Lettering Hand Word Hand Cigarette Ring

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The gold leaf kept lifting off the second Q, and Maggie Doyle swore at it for the third time before the pub across the road had emptied out. She had the lamp angled over the fascia of Ruddock and Sons, Pawnbrokers, her size brush loaded and a cigarette parked on the kerb where the damp couldn't reach it. Every letter had to be laid by hand, and every letter had to be plain, because flourishes were the first thing to fail in a wet Leeds winter.

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Inside the shop, under the glass counter, a silver ring sat on a square of pink satin. Old Ruddock's nephew had taken it in that afternoon from a lad who wanted twenty quid by Friday. Maggie had seen the inside of the band when the boy held it up to the light: two words scratched small, the capitals uneven, the sort of thing you do with a pin when you are certain no one will ever read it. LOVE YOU. The boy had not come back for it, and the nephew was already talking about melting it down for the scrap.

She finished the Q at half past one, pressed the gold flat with a dry sable, and let the sign dry under the streetlight. Then she went to the till, counted out twenty pounds from her own purse, and wrote a ticket in her neat sign-painter's capitals: HOLD FOR COLLECTION, M. DOYLE. She slipped the ring into her coat pocket where the cold metal settled against her ribs.

By morning the fascia read clean and bright, RUDDOCK AND SONS, every stroke sharp in the grey light. Nobody looked twice at the small brass ring she carried home that night, or at the faint black line of ink she had started, that same evening, along the side of her own finger, one plain letter at a time.