Black and grey realism style tattoo of a footprint with the script word Bentley in white lettering, on the sole of a foot.

Name in a footprint on a foot

Lettering · Other · Black and grey · Photo

A footprint shape is shaded in soft black and grey, with the name Bentley written across it in white script lettering. Three small dark dots sit beside the print, suggesting toes. The skin is pale and the foot is photographed from the side against a plain grey floor, with the tattoo sharply in focus.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Now you'll want to know how the tide came to keep a boy's name, and I'll tell it the way my grandmother told it to me, sitting on the harbour wall with her boots off. Bentley Frye was seven the summer the Coralie came in short of a deckhand, and he went down the slipway every morning to watch the men mend nets. He never once walked on the stones. He walked on the wet sand below the slip, where the ebb left everything soft, and each step he took filled with water and went flat behind him.

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Old Tamsin at the chandlery saw those prints and laughed. She said a footprint in sand is only a promise the sea hasn't got round to breaking. So the boy took a stick of chalk from the net loft and wrote his name along the sea wall in the big looping letters the church board used, with a tail on the y like a fish hook. The gulls walked through it. The rain took half of it by Tuesday.

That winter the Coralie didn't come back. Bentley kept walking the sand each dawn, pressing his heel in hard and setting three small dots of toes beside each print so the sea would know which way he'd been going. Men on the quay swore the tide never rubbed out the whole of it. They said if you stood where the shingle met the sand and looked back, you could still read the name the way a sailor reads a chart.

When the Coralie finally rounded the breakwater in March, her skipper came up the slip and found a small foot pressed into the mud, with a name laid out in white shell beside it. He knelt to read it and knew the hand at once, because the loops on the B were his own son's, just as he'd taught him. He took off his cap and stood there a long while, letting the water come in over his boots.

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