Fine line black script lettering reading I walk the line across the outer side of a bare foot, with red painted toenails visible.

Script quote reading I walk the line on a foot

Lettering · Other · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a bare foot showing the words I walk the line written in a thin, flowing cursive script across the side of the foot below the ankle. The linework is fine and even, with a small ellipsis at the end of the phrase. The ink reads as dark brown or black against the skin, and the photo is taken in dim light on a dark, camouflage-patterned surface with red nail polish on the big toe.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The flour gets into everything before five, and by the time I lock the back door of Ashby's the sky over the car park has gone the colour of weak tea. Dad always said you could tell a good day from the first walk home. So I walk the line: the white dashes down the middle of Kirkgate, one foot on each side, the way he taught me when I was small enough to be lifted over the bad bits.

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Nobody is about at this hour except the milk float, which has been coming past for forty years and still doesn't slow for anyone. Mrs Pilling's cat sits in the chemist's window, watching me wobble on the paint. I have a tray of day-old bloomers under one arm that Gary says I'm not supposed to take, and a paper bag of cob rolls for the lad who sleeps in the bus shelter by the library. He never asks my name, and I never ask his.

Dad's last shift was on the twenty to five bread van. He never missed a turn in thirty years, but the winter he retired he stopped at the bottom of the hill, took his cap off, and said the road had got narrower. I thought he meant the council had painted the lines too close together. I know better now.

At the bottom of Kirkgate I look back. The shutters are still down, the bakery light is a small yellow square, and behind me the dashes run straight as a ruled page all the way up the hill, each one a little pause before the next. I step off the line onto the pavement, and the lad in the shelter sits up, blinking at the bag as though it might be a trick.

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