Thin black lettering reading Curiosity often leads to trouble runs across the side of a thigh, with a hand resting on a grey top above it.

Quote tattoo on the side of a thigh

Lettering · Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a thin black line of text, Curiosity often leads to trouble, tattooed along the side of a thigh just below the waistband of a grey top. The lettering is a clean, fine serif-style font with even, delicate strokes and shows no shading or colour. A hand with pale nails rests on the top in the upper left, and the warm, slightly soft lighting sits behind the subject.

Lettering Fine line Thigh Quote Text

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dearest Nell,

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The road over the tops has been shut since Tuesday, so we are three guests, a dog, and a cat that will not stop sitting on the register, and I have run out of sensible things to do with my hands. That is how I came to be standing in the back parlour at half past eleven last night with a candle in one fist and Mr Abernethy's tin dispatch box in the other. He had locked it, of course. He always locks things. I found the key under the mantel clock, where a man keeps a key when he is certain nobody will think to look under a clock.

Inside there was no money, only a bundle of letters tied with green ribbon, all addressed in a sloping hand to Mother at this very inn. The earliest was dated the spring Father drowned at the reservoir. I read two before I heard the third stair creak and blew the candle out like a thief, which I suppose I was.

This morning he came down for his porridge, looked at the box on the sideboard, looked at me, and said only, "The ribbon was tied left over right, Miss Hester. I tie it right over left." Then he asked for the marmalade.

I have put the box back and the key back where it was. The letters I have not returned, because I have not decided whether I want to know what they say. Curiosity, Mother used to say, is a door that never shuts behind you. Snow is still coming past the window, and I can hear him upstairs, humming, which is worse than any question.

Your loving sister, Hester