Black fine-line lettering tattoo of a quote in a serif script running along the inner forearm near the wrist, against a pale fluffy background.

Quote lettering on a forearm

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a hand and inner forearm with a quote tattooed in black serif lettering running diagonally along the arm, from near the wrist towards the elbow. The lettering uses fine, even lines with some grey softness, and the image has a soft pink-sepia tone with a pale, fluffy surface beneath the arm.

Lettering Fine line Forearm Quote Text Storm Rain Hand

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rain had been coming since midnight, hard enough that the gutters over the bakery door gargled like a drain with something stuck in it. I had the first tray of rye in the oven by ten to four, and the shutters were still down, so the only light in Pennock Street came from the window and a single bulb above the bins.

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Dad used to say you wait out weather in this trade or you go under. He never wrote anything down, but Mum had pinned a card above the proving cupboard in his block capitals, and when she sold the place to me it was still there, curling at the corners and yellow from years of ovens. Stop waiting for the storm to pass. As a girl I read it as a complaint.

At half four the lorry from the mill was late, the rain was sheeting off the awning, and I realised I had been standing by the door for ten minutes with a flour-dusted cloth, watching water come down. Nothing was going to pass before the bread needed me. So I pulled the bolt, propped the back door open with a crate of empty tins, and stepped out into the yard in my clogs.

The rain was warm, which surprised me, and the yard smelled of wet slate and burnt sugar from the vents. I did not dance, exactly. I turned in a slow circle with my arms out like a fool while the light came up grey over the chimney pots, and when I came back in my hair was plastered flat and the loaves were out and ticking on the rack. Dad's card is still above the cupboard. I have never taken it down.