Two matching black fine line tattoos of the word soulsister, one on a forearm and one on the upper back, each with small arrow-like ends.

Matching soulsister script on forearm and back

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two people are shown with matching tattoos of the word soulsister in a slim, cursive script, one on the inside of a forearm and one on the upper back near the shoulder. The linework is thin and even, with small arrow or tail-like flourishes at each end of the lettering. The ink is solid black against the skin, and the plain background keeps the focus on the two tattoos.

Lettering Fine line Forearm Back Script Arrow Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The wasps had found the windfalls again, so Maud sent Ivy up the ladder to pick what was left on the high boughs before the frost could get them. Their father's orchard ran down to the river in rows nobody had straightened since the war, and every September the two of them counted the trees the way other families counted coins.

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That year the land agent came with a man in a grey coat who measured the orchard with a chain and wrote in a small black book. He wanted the old Bramley row taken out and the rest sold by the cartload. Maud said nothing. Ivy climbed down with a bruised apple in each hand and asked the man whether he knew what a soul was worth in apples. He did not answer her. That night she cut a word into the bark of the oldest tree with a penknife no longer than her thumb: soulsister. At each end she drew a small arrow, so the word would point somewhere.

The chain men came back the following week and found the tree with its letters. The grey coat called it damage and the agent called it a nuisance, but old Mrs Pryce from the cottage on the lane came out in her apron, looked at the bark for a long time, and said that a tree which had been named could not be felled by men who did not know its name. Nobody in the village argued with her, because nobody ever did.

The Bramley row still stands. Maud climbs to the top boughs when the wasps come, and when the fruit is in she walks down to the river and looks back up the rows. The arrows on the old bark point at each other across the field, and at dusk, if she stands where the two lines meet, she can almost hear Ivy calling her in for supper.