Black script lettering tattoo on a forearm, with the arm holding a red tennis racket and a yellow ball.

Script lettering on a forearm

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A close view of a forearm carrying a block of black script lettering running diagonally up the arm. The lines are fine and even, with some shading in the letter strokes, and the ink is set against bare skin with light body hair. The arm grips a red and black tennis racket and a yellow ball against a dark background, with a small blue area in the lower left corner.

Lettering Forearm Script Word Handwriting Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The last ball of the afternoon had rolled under the hoarding, and Nell was the only one still on the grounds to chase it. Her father's old clipboard was tucked under one arm, and the wind pushed grit against the back of her neck as she crouched by the boards. Beyond the fence the sea had gone the colour of pewter, and the floodlights were humming the way they always did before they caught.

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Inside the zipped pocket of a canvas bag left under the bench, she found a sheet of paper folded into quarters. The handwriting was so careful and looped that it looked printed, every letter leaning the same way like boats tied to one mooring. It spoke of mornings on the cliff path, of a ferry timetable that never once bent to anyone's wishes, and of a promise to meet at the net when the courts were empty. There was no name at the foot, only a small drawn circle that could have been a ball or a full stop.

Mr Pardoe, who ran the club from a hut with a broken kettle, said the bag belonged to a man who came every Thursday and always left by the back gate. He shrugged and told her to put it on the shelf with the umbrellas. Nell didn't. She sat on the bench with a biro borrowed from the scorecard tin and wrote underneath the last line, in capitals so there could be no mistake: THE COURT WILL BE OPEN THURSDAY. BRING THE SPARE BALL.

On Thursday the ball was waiting on the rail by the back gate, pressed flat with a pebble so the wind could not take it. The floodlights came on all at once, and for a moment the whole empty court was lit like a page.