Black and grey fine line lettering reading 'i love you to the moon and back' with a small crescent moon on the inner forearm near the wrist.

Moon and quote on the inner wrist

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A black and grey photograph of a tattoo on the inner forearm near the wrist, showing the handwritten-style phrase 'i love you to the moon and back' set over three lines. A small solid crescent moon sits below the lettering. The linework is thin and even, with the moon shaded in solid black, and the soft, plain background keeps the focus on the skin.

Lettering Fine line Forearm Quote Text Moon Crescent moon Handwriting

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The snow closed the pass on the third day of December, and the Fell Hare had nine guests where it usually kept four. Agnes Holroyd counted them at the bar the way she counted change, twice and then once more for luck. The carter in the corner settle, Joseph Dunn, had been trying since noon to write to his wife in Sedbergh, and his pen kept skidding on the damp paper.

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"Say it plain, then," Agnes said, setting down a dish of mutton. "The post won't go anywhere tonight, so you may as well put it somewhere." He dipped the nib, wrote a line, and crossed it out. "I can't put it in a letter. She'll think I've been drinking." "Have you?" "One." He looked at the window, where the black glass held nothing but their reflections. "When I courted her, I walked her home under a thin moon like a paring of cheese. She said it was too small to reach anywhere, so I told her I loved her to the moon and back. She still teases me about it."

Later, Agnes took a lantern out to the yard for coal. The sky had cleared, and above the drifts hung the same narrow crescent she remembered from the winter her husband died, when he had said those exact words to her through a fever. She stood in the cold longer than the coal needed. Then she went back inside, took the chalk from the hook by the door, and wrote the phrase across the slate in her own cramped hand, three lines high, with a small moon beneath it.

At dawn the plough's bell rang out on the road. Joseph stood reading the board with his coat half on, the sealed letter already in his fist. He laughed once, quietly, and then, before he went out to the wagon, he took the stub of pencil from Agnes's apron and drew a tiny moon in the corner of the envelope.