Two matching black script tattoos reading We shall never drift apart with an anchor, one on the top of a foot and one on a forearm.

Matching anchor and quote tattoos on foot and forearm

Lettering · Other · Black and grey · Photo

The image shows the same phrase, We shall never drift apart, tattooed in black script on the top of a foot and on a forearm, each with an anchor beside the lettering. The lettering is thin and even, with the anchor drawn in solid black lines. The ink is black on skin tones, with the foot in the upper part of the frame and the forearm running across the lower part.

Lettering Fine line Other Forearm Anchor Script Quote Lettering Foot Forearm

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The snow had sealed the Crowfoot road for three days when the Pryce brothers stamped in out of the white with one lantern between them and a sack of sodden charts. Mam sat them by the range without asking their names. Dad was out in the byre with the ewe that wouldn't lamb, so it fell to me to pour the tea and pretend I wasn't staring at the younger one's wet coat and the way he kept turning a ring round and round on his finger.

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Tobias, the elder, spent the evening bent over a tide table with a steel nib, drawing an anchor in the margin so hard the paper tore. Beneath it he wrote the same line over and over: We shall never drift apart. Ned laughed at him until he didn't. Their mother had gone down with the Marigold off Flamborough in March, and the only letter that reached them had one sentence in her hand, scrawled on the back of a chandler's bill: keep to the line.

The thaw came in the night, drip by drip off the eaves, and by morning the road was a grey river of slush. Before they left, Ned rolled up his sleeve by the door and showed me the anchor inked on his forearm, the words running beside it in the same thin hand as the margin. Tobias had had his done in Hull the week after the funeral, on the top of his foot, so he would see it with every step he took away from home.

I asked which of them had copied the other. Ned said neither had; the artist had simply been asked for the line once and drew it twice. I kept the tide table in the till drawer, where the torn anchor still shows through from the back, pressed so deep into the paper it looks like something trying to surface.