Black and grey photograph of the words "Not all those who wander are lost" in script lettering with swirling flourishes along the side of a foot, on a carpet.

Script quote tattoo along the side of a foot

Lettering · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

A black and grey photograph shows the phrase "Not all those who wander are lost" tattooed in a flowing script across the side of a foot, running from the ankle towards the outer edge of the foot. Thin swirling flourishes sit beside and under the lettering, and the ink is solid black with clean edges. The foot rests on a textured grey carpet, and the soft focus and sepia-toned lighting give the image a muted, monochrome look.

Lettering Ankle Quote Script Lettering Flourish Text

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Aunt Maud was forty minutes late to the wedding because she had got off the bus at the wrong Penrith and walked, she said, to the edge of the county to see whether the hedges looked different. They didn't. She arrived at the marquee with grass on her hem and a paper bag of Kendal mint cake, and sat down at our table as if she had been expected all along.

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My mother had kept one of her postcards for thirty years, propped against the kettle. It showed a lighthouse on a grey sea, and on the back, in Maud's upright capitals, was the line that hung in our hall: NOT ALL THOSE WHO WANDER ARE LOST. It was a joke between them. Maud had once spent three nights in a Cumbrian bothy with no map and come home sunburnt and delighted, while my mother had never once left the postcode she was born in.

When the best man stood to speak he lost his place twice, a sheaf of notes shaking in his hand. Maud leaned forward and said, loudly enough for the top table to hear, that he was not lost, only wandering, and there was a difference. Everyone laughed. The groom didn't. He looked at her as though she had known him longer than he had known himself.

Afterwards she found me by the dessert table and pressed the postcard into my palm. Under the old line she had added in pencil, slanting off the edge of the card: and some of us are just on the way. Then she went off to dance, her hat tipped at an angle that suggested she had no intention of finding the car park again. I still have the card. The pencil has nearly gone, but I can still read it.