Two matching black script tattoos reading eternally, each with a small star and a II symbol, on the inner forearms of two people clasping wrists.

Matching eternally script tattoos on forearms

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two people clasp their wrists so that their inner forearms are shown, each bearing a matching tattoo. The word eternally is written in black script with a small star above the first letter and a stylised II symbol to the left. The linework is solid and even, and the ink is black with no shading or colour, against softly blurred indoor background with a silver bracelet on each wrist.

Lettering Forearm Script Star Matching tattoo Wrist

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Ida had the knife and Marta had the scions, and neither of them trusted the other to hold the stock steady. The old Blenheim at the top of Hollin Lane had split in the spring gales, and its low limb lay across the wall like a cut rope. Their mother said the tree would die if nobody bound it, so they bound it with raffia and wax and argued over the angle the whole afternoon.

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When the wasps had gone quiet in the windfalls, Marta cut two slips from the same green shoot and handed one to her sister without looking. "Same wood, same sap," she said. "If it takes, it takes for both of us." Ida pressed the join together with her thumb, the way their grandfather had shown them, and tied it off while the blade still smelled of sugar. Then she scratched a small star into the bark above the wax, and two straight strokes beside it, the marks their mother chalked on the cider barrels. Under those she wrote a word with her thumbnail, eternally, spelled wrong, and Marta said it looked like a tractor had written it.

The graft took in the wet week of September. By the next spring the split limb had put out two shoots from the one wound, one leaning toward the church and one leaning toward the river. The children on the hill started calling them the twins, and when the boughs came into blossom they were the only pair in the valley that flowered on the same morning.

At picking time the sisters climbed the ladders on either side of the trunk and filled a single basket between them. Ida's apples were sharp and Marta's were sweet, and nobody in the village could tell which tree had grown which, so they ate them all together at the long table in the barn.