Black and grey script tattoo reading The course of true love never did run smooth, across the side of the ribs.

Script quote across the ribs

Lettering · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A black and grey photograph of a handwritten script quote in three lines, reading The course of true love never did run smooth. The fine, flowing lettering is set in dark ink on a soft, slightly tilted angle across the side of the torso. The image is black and white, with a light lace waistband visible at the bottom edge.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Tom Harbutt had the ladder against the Bramley before the mist had lifted off the brook, and he was whistling, which was how I knew he had been up to something. My father's orchard ran down to the water and Harbutt's ran up to the lane, and the wall between them had been argued over since before either of us was born. I was nineteen that August and had been told, in so many words, to fetch the cider apples from the far side or stop mooning about the gate.

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We met in the middle, under the old medlar where the wall had come down and nobody had thought to mend it. He handed me a letter folded inside a square of waxed cloth, the way you might carry a wasp you did not want to squash. It was in his careful, upright hand, asking whether I would walk out with him on Sunday if my father did not object. Tucked under the fold was a sprig of Blenheim, its cheek already blushing.

"Your father will object," I said.

"He'll object to the wall," Tom said. "Not to me. Not really."

I read the letter twice, then took the pencil from behind my ear and wrote my answer on the back of his paper, pressing hard enough to dent the page. I told him the course of true love never did run smooth, and that Shakespeare had clearly never tried to get cider apples past a Harbutt. I told him the wall could stay if the gate went. When I pinned the sprig back onto his jacket, my fingers were stained purple from the windfalls, and he did not seem to mind at all.

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