Black and white photo of two clasped hands showing matching fine line flourish tattoos on the wrists.

Matching flourish tattoos on two wrists

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two hands are clasped together, with a small black ink flourish on each wrist. The left tattoo is larger and has a looping, swashed line with a thick, tapered stroke, while the right one is smaller and mirrors its shape. The photograph is greyscale with a soft, shallow focus that keeps the wrists sharp against a blurred background.

Fine line Forearm Flourish Swirl

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The second loop was the one that always caught Ruth out. She had her stepladder wedged against the bakery window on the ground floor of Fenwick House, a grey tower block above the Hessle Road shops, and the gold size was already tacky under her brush. Painting a flourish the right way round on the outside of glass was simple enough. Painting it backwards on the inside so it would read true from the pavement was another matter, and she had been doing it for thirty-one years without once getting used to it.

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The Ashby brothers had come in on a wet Tuesday with a sketch on the back of a parcel label. Kieran, the elder, wanted the bigger swash for the bakery, because the bakery was his now. Danny wanted the smaller one for the barber's he was opening three doors down, and he wanted it to mirror his brother's, so that the two would sit like a pair of handwritten initials. Ruth had asked them to stand on either side of the pane while she marked the spacing. Kieran stood inside among the sacks of flour. Danny stood out in the drizzle with his collar up. Neither moved until she told them to.

She finished the larger loop at half past four, when the light in the stairwell behind the counter had gone the colour of weak tea. Through the glass, the flourish looked like it had been written by someone in a hurry who had nevertheless known exactly where the pen should lift. Danny pressed his palm flat against the outside of the pane, and Kieran, without being asked, put his own up against the inside. Ruth watched the gold catch the last of the daylight, and the rain ran down through the loop and off the bottom of the glass.