Black and grey fine line tattoo on the inner forearm of a woman in a floral dress, showing the words 'you are beautiful, you are valuable, you are enough' with small flying birds.

Quote and small birds on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A black and grey photograph of an inner forearm with three lines of small, serif-free lettering reading 'you are beautiful, you are valuable, you are enough'. Several small birds in flight trail from the upper arm down past the text, drawn with fine, even linework. The soft monochrome image shows a floral dress sleeve on the left and a relaxed hand with a ring at the bottom of the frame.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Text Quote Bird Flying bird

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The last of the geese had gone over the top field before Jessamy Leach thought to fetch the slate down from the nail by the dairy door. Her grandfather had scratched three lines on it the winter the lambing failed, and nobody had read them since because the soot had filmed over the letters.

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Her brother Tom was leaving for the mill towns in the morning, on the carrier's cart, with a cardboard case and a coat that had been let out twice. He had not spoken much since the pig sale. Jessamy rubbed at the slate with her sleeve and the words came up grey and plain: you are beautiful, you are valuable, you are enough. Her grandfather had never been a man for speeches. He had written it the way he counted ewes, once and then again to be sure.

Starlings came down out of the bare ash as she crossed the yard, a loose handful at first, then a wider scatter that bent over the frozen furrows and lifted again without any signal she could see. Tom watched them from the step with his hands in his pockets. 'They never fly the same way twice,' he said. 'Grandad said that was how you knew they were ours.'

She took the chalk from her apron pocket and wrote the three lines again on the gatepost, big enough to read from the lane. Under each one she drew a small bird, then a few more trailing down toward the road. When the carrier came at first light he slowed at the gate, and Tom leaned out to look, and the birds were still there in the frost, heading the same way he was.