Black and grey photograph of two matching fine line script tattoos reading take care on the inner forearms, with the two people holding hands.

Matching take care script on forearms

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two forearms show matching fine line script tattoos that read take care, set horizontally across the inner forearm. The linework is thin and even, with no shading, and the lettering is rendered in black ink on skin. The photograph is monochrome, with the hands clasped at the bottom of the frame and a patterned woven fabric behind the arms.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Script Matching tattoo Hand Text

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit closer, the wind off the firth takes half of what I say. You see that gatehouse with no roof and the arch still standing? Two girls lived in the keep when it still had a roof, Marta and Hild, daughters of the warden who kept the beacon lit. Every morning the younger one went down the hill to fetch the goats from the salt meadow, and every morning the elder stood at the postern gate with her palm flat against the oak and said the same two words. Take care. Nothing more. Their mother had died of the marsh fever with a sentence left unfinished, and Marta had decided that words should never be left hanging in the air.

Keep reading

One autumn a grey ship came up the firth with sickness in its hold, and the warden ordered the gates barred at dusk. Hild was on the wrong side of the meadow with the goats scattering toward the reeds. Marta stood at the postern for three nights with her hand on the wood, saying the words through the crack, until the bar finally lifted and Hild stumbled through, muddy to the knees, cross and alive and smelling of wet sheep.

That winter, when the keep had gone quiet and the warden was buried beside his wife, Hild took a knife to the lintel above that gate. She cut the words so small that a stranger would have to stop and lean close to read them. She said a carved thing lasts longer than a voice, and a voice is a poor thing to trust to a locked door.

The roof fell in a hundred years later, and the sea has taken most of the meadow, but the stone is still there. Go on, put your hand on it. You have stopped to read it, so you may as well take the words with you. Take care.