Black script lettering reading Love on the side of a woman's neck, photographed from behind with the sea and a small island in the background.

Script love lettering on the neck

Lettering · Neck · Black and grey · Photo

A black script word reading Love sits on the side of the neck of a woman photographed from behind, with her blonde hair pulled up to one side. The lettering uses flowing, connected strokes with a slightly heavier weight on the letter loops and a fine finish. The ink is black and the background is a bright blue sky, a calm sea and a small wooded island, giving the composition a sunny, open feel.

Lettering Neck Love Script Word Neck Sea Island

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The last ferry had left Quell Harbour before the frost came down, so Marit Hollin rowed herself out past the wooded island of Tarn Skerry with a folded letter buttoned inside her coat. The sea lay flat and blue as a plate. Her oars knocked against the thole pins as she neared the middle buoy, where the Oss border men hung their lantern on a pole.

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Old Sorrel leaned over the gunwale of the customs boat and held out his hand. "Papers," he said. Marit gave him the letter. He unfolded it and squinted at the single line she had written, the letters looped the way her mother had taught her, heavy at the bottoms of the loops and fine at the tails. Love. "The regulation is for papers with names and weights on them," he said. "This weighs nothing." He tapped the buoy with his knuckle. "Nothing crosses for nothing."

She had expected that and had brought a coin. He waved it off. A word that had come all the way out over water to a border, he said, had earned its passage. In forty years he had turned back only one letter like it, and he had regretted it through three winters. He handed the paper back, kept one corner between his fingers for a moment, then stamped the margin with a small leaf and wrote the date beneath it.

Marit rowed on toward the far shore, where a lamp burned in a window with blue shutters. A gull came down to ride the wake behind her. When she looked back, the customs boat was already turning for home, and the letter lay open on the thwart beside her, the single word clear in the salt light.