Black and grey flash sheet of three script lettering designs reading Amor, Baby Girl and Princess, with small star accents between them.

Script lettering flash: Amor, Baby Girl, Princess

Lettering · Black and grey · Flash

A drawn flash sheet showing three script lettering designs stacked vertically on a white background. The words Amor, Baby Girl and Princess are rendered in bold, looping black linework with ornate flourishes, underlines and shaded letter edges. Small star shapes sit between the designs, and the sheet is in black and grey only.

Lettering Princess Script Flourish Star

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The brush had to be loaded thin enough to run, and Dorothy Feeney had been loading hers since before the war, so when the harbour boy came up the shop steps with a name written three ways on three scraps of paper, she did not look at the scraps. She looked at the grey hull he had dragged onto the slipway behind him, its paint blistered like burnt crust, and asked what the owner had said the boat was called. The boy shrugged. The owner had said nothing except that his wife had gone, and he wanted her name on the bow before the spring tides.

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The name was Maureen. Dorothy had painted two Maureens already, and both had come out plain, upright capitals like a bus timetable. She sat under the lamp with the scraps and thought of the flash sheet pinned in her window, the one a lad from Brighton had posted her years back, where Amor and Baby Girl and Princess swung in their looping black tails with little stars thrown between them. Nobody asked for those any more. But the hand was the hand. She could give Maureen the same swooping M, the underline that doubled back on itself like a wave turning over.

She painted it over three mornings with the tide out. On the third, the owner came down the slip in his waders and stood with his hands in his pockets, reading the bow letter by letter, his lips moving. He was quiet for so long that a gull landed on the rail and thought better of it. Then he asked whether the bottom loop could be smaller, because she had never liked showing off.

Dorothy said she would think about it and did not change a stroke. He nodded, looked at the name a while longer, and said it sounded like her. When the boat went out on the morning tide, the sun caught the wet enamel and the loops flared gold. Dorothy kept the three scraps and pinned them beneath the flash sheet, where the stars still sat in their hopeful little scatter.