Black fine line script tattoo reading Words can't say what love can do, running along the side of a person's torso above denim shorts.

Script quote along the side of the torso

Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo

A photograph of a person lying on their side, showing a handwritten script tattoo that reads Words can't say what love can do. The linework is thin and even, in black ink, and the lettering rises slightly toward the upper right. The skin tone and soft white bedding fill the background, with the denim shorts at the left edge of the frame.

Fine line Lettering Other Word Script Quote Love

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dennis took the brush from my hand the afternoon the Gazette wanted its banner redone, and he told me a good sign-writer never lifts the pen off the board until the line is finished. I said it was the only sensible thing I'd heard from a man all week. He laughed, climbed the ladder above Hartley's the chemist, and the whole of the High Street stopped to watch him letter the gold leaf while the rain came on sideways off the market square.

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The letter came on the Tuesday. Sheffield, a contract at the steelworks, six months at the least. He wrote in pencil on the back of a sale docket because the ink had run dry in the van, and his capitals went crooked the way they always do when he is trying not to hurry. Near the bottom he had written that he did not have the words for it, so he had simply let the loops run on until the page gave out.

I sat at the kitchen table with my mother's dictionary open beside the teapot and went looking for something bigger than my own small vocabulary. Every word I found was too plain or too grand. In the end I copied out the line he had painted across the bakery window for the Pargeters' fortieth, the one about words and love, and I added nothing to it. I posted it on the Thursday.

The ladder was still propped against the chemist's wall on Friday morning, the gold half-finished on the final letter, and I stood under it in the drizzle with my hands in my coat pockets, waiting for the sign to be finished by someone who had only gone away for a while.