Script lettering reading 'This too shall pass'

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows the words 'This too shall pass' written in flowing black cursive script across two lines on the inner wrist. The linework is smooth and even, with solid black ink and no shading. The photograph is taken at a slight angle against a pink and white patterned bedsheet, with the skin tone and ink clearly visible.

Lettering Fine line Forearm Script Lettering Quote Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The carousel had seized at half past six, the night the wind came off the marshes and tried to lift the big top off its pegs. You were on your back under the platform with a spanner in your teeth when Mr Pargeter's boots stopped by your head. 'Brake's locked on the main shaft,' he said. 'Hampstead's ten minutes out and I want those horses turning when the first car pulls in.'

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You worked the bolt loose by feel, the way your father taught you on the dodgems, and when the platform groaned and began to turn you slid out and looked up at the central housing. Someone, years back, had lettered a scroll there in curling gold, and the paint had crazed into a web over the words. You read them by torchlight: This too shall pass. Pargeter saw you reading and shrugged. 'Painter's motto. Said it came off a ring some old king made a wise man engrave, so he'd remember happy days end and sad ones end too.' He spat into the mud. 'Didn't stop the rain getting in his hair, mind.'

The lights came on along the Ferris wheel. Mrs Oake, who read palms in the caravan with the blue door, came out in a coat over her nightdress and crouched to give a sweet to a girl who had lost her mother somewhere between the candyfloss and the goldfish. You watched the child's face crumple, then brighten as the first painted horse rose and fell under the bulbs.

When the last car had gone up the wheel and the generator settled into its drone, you wiped your hands on a rag and climbed onto the platform. The scroll was still there, its gold catching the work lamp. You pressed the lever home, felt the shaft take the load, and let the music start, a little flat and a little late, but turning.