Matching script wrist tattoos reading Take Me and I'm Yours
Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo
Two people hold hands so that their wrists and forearms face the camera, each with a black script tattoo. The left wrist reads Take Me and the right reads I'm Yours, with looped flourishes and a grey shaded outline. The background is blurred, with a grey top, denim jeans and a blue lanyard visible, and the lighting is warm.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Mind the puddle by the fish cart, it's deeper than it looks, and sit where the awning drips on nobody. Right. Rain on Tallow Street market, the year the canal flooded, and under the bridge arches worked two painters, a brother and sister called Ada and Oswin Pell, who lettered signs for anyone with coin. Ada did the flourishes. Oswin did the hairlines so thin nobody else could hold them steady.
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A cloth merchant paid them to letter two carts for the autumn fair, one for himself and one for his daughter's wedding. He wanted words that would make a passer-by stop. Ada wrote out a sheet of possibilities in soot and water. Take Me, she wrote, and Oswin laughed and said that would sell nothing but gossip. So they painted it anyway, looping the T until it looked like a fishhook, and on the other cart they painted I'm Yours, which was the answer, and which the merchant had never asked for.
The fair came, and the rain came with it. Ada and Oswin stood at the edge of the crowd with wet paint drying on their knuckles and watched a girl in a yellow shawl read one cart, then the other, then turn slowly around, as if the street had reversed under her feet. Nobody bought a single bolt of cloth that day. In the morning the carts were found pushed together under the bridge, the two sets of words touching, and the painters never charged for the repair.
If you walk down there tonight you'll still see the letters faintly on the stone where the carts leaned. The rain keeps trying to wash them off, and it keeps failing.
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