Two people seen from behind with matching black script lettering tattoos across their upper shoulders, one reading You be the Anchor that keeps my feet on the Ground.

Matching script quote tattoos on two shoulders

Lettering · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

Two people are photographed from behind in bright sunlight, each with a black script quotation tattooed across the top of the shoulder. The left tattoo reads You be the Anchor that keeps my feet on the Ground, and the right reads And I'll be the Wings that keep your Head in the Clouds, with the two lines set to mirror each other. The lettering uses clean, even black linework with a flowing copperplate-style script, against a plain grey road in the background.

Lettering Shoulder Quote Script Anchor Wing Cloud Matching

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Rain came sideways across the fish market at Gellan Quay, and nobody bought a thing until old Mother Tesk had finished her story, so the stallholders stood under their dripping tarpaulins and listened. Come closer, she said, you'll not hear me over the gulls. Two girls worked the stalls side by side at the harbour end. Nell hung kites from a pole, bright paper things with tails of knotted cloth, and Bet coiled tarred rope and sold it by the fathom.

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They quarrelled the way sisters do, over the drainage ditch between their pitches. Nell said rope was only a hangman's idea of a kindness. Bet said kites were paper that wanted to die in a gale. Then the storm came in off the Channel on a Tuesday, and a boy from the herring boats was blown off the mole with his oilskin cracking like a sail. Bet threw her coil across the cobbles and it ran out, wet and heavy, until the end of it was in the boy's fist. Nell ran the length of the quay with her biggest kite, and the wind took the paper and hauled the string tight, and the two lines went up together like a pair of arms.

Nobody could say afterwards which of them had saved him. Bet swore it was the rope. Nell swore the kite had lifted him by the belt like a fish on a line. Mother Tesk tapped her stick on the boards. That's the trouble with a pair, she said. One holds the ground and one holds the sky, and neither will admit it to the other until the weather makes them.

The rain thinned to a drizzle. Nell and Bet stood by their stalls, not speaking, until they both reached at once for the same spare cord under the counter. They laughed before either of them noticed they had moved together.