Two people stand side by side showing matching black script tattoos on their ribs, one reading Until My Last Day and the other Until My Last Breath.

Matching script quotes on two ribs

Lettering · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

Two bare-torsoed people stand close together, each with a black script tattoo on the side of the ribcage. The left reads Until My Last Day and the right reads Until My Last Breath, with the lettering in a flowing, slightly shaded handwriting style. The image is in colour photography with soft natural light, and the composition focuses on the two tattoos and the close contact between the subjects.

Lettering Ribs Quote Matching tattoo Couple Script text

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Marta had stamped passports at the footbridge crossing for eleven years, and she knew the look of a man rehearsing his lines. This one had a cardboard tube under his arm and a woman at his shoulder who kept touching the back of his coat, as if checking he was still there. When he slid his papers under the glass, the names matched a ferry ledger she had found in the archive basement the winter before, and Marta felt the old clerk's dread settle in her chest.

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He unrolled the tube on the counter. Two sheets of thick paper, yellowed at the edges, each carrying the same hand-lettered vow in faded copperplate. One ended in the words Until my last day. The other, the woman said quietly, ended in Until my last breath. Their grandfather had written them in 1968, the year the river shifted its course and split his two sons onto opposite banks. He had rowed each son a ticket every Sunday until the bridge was built, and both boys had kept the sheets folded inside their wallets ever since.

Marta read the vow twice, then looked at the stamp pad. Rules said she could not let two foreign sheets of paper through without a form, and the form was a long one. She filled it in anyway, slowly, taking her time over every box, while the man watched the river through the window and the woman kept one hand on his arm.

When she handed the papers back, she did not stamp them. She stamped the blank line at the bottom of the form instead and slid it under the glass with the pen. Outside, the wind caught the two loose corners of the sheets as they stepped onto the bridge together, and for a moment they looked like a pair of flags nobody had asked them to carry.