Black capital lettering tattoo on a forearm, set in several lines of a quote about the universe, trees and stars, in a plain lettering style.

Quote tattoo on a forearm

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A seated person rests one bare forearm on a bent knee, with a quote tattooed along it in several lines of black capital lettering. The letters are solid black with clean edges and no shading or colour. The pale tiled floor and blue denim jeans sit behind the arm, keeping attention on the text.

Lettering Forearm Quote Text Tree Star

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The ewe had been crying since the lamp guttered, so Nan Halloran took the crook and the blue storm lantern and went out past the byre into a frost so hard the gate sang when she lifted the latch. Behind her the farmhouse was a dark box with one window lit. Above the orchard the stars had come out thick and small, the way they only do when the cold has scraped the sky clean.

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Her grandmother had always said that a girl had no more business on a farm than the apple trees did, which was to say every bit as much, and that the trick was to stop standing about in the yard like a stray dog waiting to be sent off. Nan had never understood it until she was twelve and found the old woman in the orchard with her palm flat against a trunk, talking the way you would talk to a horse. "You are no less than these," Maeve had said, not turning round. "Same sap, same frost. So stop apologising to the ground."

The ewe was in the lee of the hedge, down on her side with one hoof showing and nothing else moving. Nan knelt in the rime, pushed her sleeve up and worked the lamb round by feel until it slid free in a rush of steam. It lay grey and still on the straw. She rubbed it hard with a fistful of hay, blew into its nostrils the way she had been shown, and counted to thirty before it coughed, shook its head and found its voice.

Walking back, she stopped under the bare trees and looked up at the stars, which had not moved at all through all her apologising. Her father stood in the doorway with a cup of tea going cold in his hand. "Well?" he said. "Ewe's fine," she said. "Lamb's got as much right to be here as the rest of us." She went in and did not take her boots off until the kettle boiled.