Black and grey realism tattoo of praying hands wrapped in a scroll banner reading Lord forgive me for my past wrongs and future sins, on the upper arm.

Praying hands with banner on upper arm

Realism · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows a pair of praying hands with detailed shading that gives the knuckles and fingers volume. A ribbon banner wraps around the hands and carries the script lettering Lord forgive me for my past wrongs and future sins. The image is a close crop in neutral lighting, with the design filling most of the frame and the ink mostly grey and black.

Realism Lettering Upper arm Praying hands Hand Banner Scroll Script lettering Quote

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

By the time the bride reached the altar at St Aldhelm's, the organ had lost a verse and Mrs Pryce had lost patience. She pressed a stack of orders of service into my hands and told me to stand by the font and keep them dry, as the rain had found the gap under the porch door. I was nineteen and had been given nothing more important all year.

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The orders had been printed the Friday before by Alf Tanner, who had carved half the headstones in the churchyard and insisted on setting the type himself on his nephew's computer. He had chosen a script for the cover, something with loops like a fishing line, and a short verse for the back, a prayer his late wife used to say over the bread. I read it while the vicar cleared his throat. It was a plea for forgiveness, past wrongs and future sins, and it sat beside the names of the bride and groom like a receipt nobody had asked for.

The groom had read it too. He stood with his hands folded in front of him, the way the photographs would later show, and when the vicar asked who gave this woman, Alf rose from the front pew instead of his son, slowly, one palm flat on the wood. He said nothing. He walked to the step, took the bride's hand and placed it in the groom's, then pressed both their palms together and held them there until the organ, finally finding its place, began again.

Afterwards, in the wet car park, Mrs Pryce asked what I had made of it. I said the old man had kept his prayer short. She laughed and said he had always had a stonemason's sense of how much a sentence could bear. I pocketed the spare orders meaning to throw them out, and found I had kept one, folded small in my glove box, where it still is.