Black fine line script lettering reading Alltid i mitt hjerte across the ribs of a person wearing a black top.

Script lettering across the ribs

Lettering · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A close side view of the ribs showing a single line of black cursive script that reads Alltid i mitt hjerte. The strokes are thin and even, with the ink sitting cleanly on the skin and a faint redness around the lines. The lettering runs horizontally across the centre of the frame, with a black top and a plain wall visible at the edges.

Lettering Ribs Script Lettering Text Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Halvard had the fiddle that could make the floorboards of Sørli hall sound like a second heartbeat, and every summer he played the stevne with his back to the door, because the miller's daughter came in late and he did not want her to catch him watching. This year she came in before the first tune was finished, a letter folded small in her palm.

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She did not ask him to dance. She laid the paper on his fiddle case and said it was from her brother in Bergen, who would not be home before the harvest, and would Halvard read it out, since the hand was cramped and she could not make out the ends of the lines. He unfolded it under the lamp. The news was thin: the boats were late, the price of salt had gone up, the brother was sorry for the quarrel at Midsummer. At the bottom, in a different ink, were four words: alltid i mitt hjerte. Always in my heart.

Halvard read the line twice, then tuned the fiddle a half-step down without meaning to, and the old men by the stove looked up. He knew the hand. He had written that line himself the winter before, in a letter he never sent, and had left it in the psalm book on the shelf at the mill, where a miller's daughter would find it if she went looking for hymns. The brother in Bergen had never existed. Ingrid had invented him so that Halvard would have to speak her name into a room full of people.

He did not say any of that. He lifted the bow, found the note the words had been waiting for, and played the slow springar straight through the hall, so that every boot on the boards had to keep time with him. Ingrid crossed the floor before the tune ended. She did not wait for him to lower the fiddle.