Colour tattoo of a green running shoe with a red heart and the word Run in script on the top of a foot, shown beside a silver necklace with a matching design.

Running shoe and Run script on a foot

Lettering · Other · Mixed · Photo

A small green running shoe with a red heart on the side sits above the word Run written in black cursive script, all with dark outlines. The left panel shows a silver pendant in the same shoe shape, with a heart cut out and Run stamped on it, resting on a pale wooden surface. The right panel is a close view of the top of a foot near the toes, with simple flat colour and clean linework against warm skin tones.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Your father's trainers are still by the Aga, laces knotted together the way he always tied them, and you don't pick them up. The yard is white to the gate. Frost has got into the gutters overnight and the ewes are bawling from the top field, which means the fence by the beck has gone again and someone has to go and look before the light fails at four.

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It is you, because Dad's knee is in plaster and Mum is at the auction. You pull on the wellies that rub at the heel, then, on a whim, the old running shoes from the back of the boot room, green with the mud of three summers. Your toes grip nothing. The path runs along the wall, and the cold gets into your teeth before the second gate. Halfway down the slope you start to run properly, the way you used to run the school cross-country before you gave it up, and the breath comes out in clouds that keep pace with you.

The fence is down in two places. The beck has taken a clump of hawthorn and the water is slopping over the bank. You spend twenty minutes hauling wire with your gloves frozen stiff, and somewhere in the middle of it you hear your father's voice in your head, tapping the tally on the back door: Run, lass, run, and the ewes won't wait for you to think about it.

You count the flock twice from the gate. Forty-one. Forty-one, and one lamb nosing under the hedge, bleating in the way that means it has been looking for its mother. You carry it back under your coat. By the time you reach the yard the sky has gone the colour of the pale rind of a swede, the shoes are soaked through, and you are laughing for no reason you can explain to the dog.

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