Black ink script reading I love you to the moon and back, with a small crescent moon below it, on the inner forearm in a black and white photo.

Quote and crescent moon on a forearm

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A handwritten script quote reading I love you to the moon and back runs across the inner forearm, with a small solid crescent moon beneath it. The lettering is crisp black linework with even, clean strokes and no visible shading. The photo is in black and white, so the ink appears as deep black against soft grey skin with a dark background at the edges.

Lettering Forearm Quote Moon Crescent moon Script Love

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Nell,

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The cage came up at four this morning and I stepped out into a sky with one thin paring of moon hung over the pit heap, like someone had clipped a nail and left it there. Tell Mam the lamp boy's dog has had pups, and that Eli Parr went to the Co-op to ask for his wages in advance, which they will not give him. I have not seen daylight in a day and a half. Down the face the only light is what we carry on our caps, and after a while you stop expecting the sky to mean anything.

You asked in your last letter why I keep writing the moon on everything. It is because I cannot see it from the coal face, so I have to take it on trust. Old Amos says the moon is only the sun's leftovers, lit up for the night shift. I told him that was a poor thing to say to a man with a wife at home.

Last Thursday the roof gave a crack like a rifle and we all stood still, lamps dimmed, listening to the timbers settle. Nobody spoke. Then Amos started a chapel hymn under his breath and we took it up, badly, the way you would sing to a child. When the cage brought us up I looked back at the shaft mouth, a small grey circle with a bit of sky in it, and I thought of the crescent I drew under the words for you, how it is the part you can always count on when the rest is hidden.

Keep the lamp lit in the back window. I will see it from the bottom of the lane when the bus drops me. To the moon and back, and then the long way round by the allotments so the hens get their dinner.

Yours, Tom