Fine black script reading Trust your struggle on the inner upper arm of a woman wearing black lace underwear.

Script quote tattoo on an upper arm

Lettering · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a thin black script tattoo reading "Trust your struggle", set in two lines on the inner upper arm. The linework is fine and even, with a slight sheen of healed skin around the letters. The arm is shown against a plain white background, with black lace clothing visible at the edge of the frame.

Lettering Fine line Upper arm Quote Script Text Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The job came in at eleven, after the last bus had shuddered past the Wicker and the streetlamps had turned the wet pavements the colour of weak tea. Mrs Okafor had run the launderette on Canal Street for thirty-one years, and she stood under the buzzing strip light holding a card out between two fingers. "Those words," she said. "In gold, and not one letter bigger than my hand."

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I had been painting shop fronts for nine years and was rarely told what to write, so I asked her what it meant. She looked past me at the machines turning slowly behind the glass, a single grey sock tumbling in one of the dryers. "My husband wrote it on the wall the week the river came up through the floor. He said the stubborn stains only come out when you stop scrubbing and let them soak."

I ruled the lines with chalk and worked the loops of the S fine as hair, so they would not fill up with grime over the winter. Halfway through the second line a lorry changed gear outside and my brush skipped across the glass. I wiped it clean and started again, and felt the old pull to hurry, the same pull I had felt at twenty. By three the letters were done and the gold caught the lamp.

Mrs Okafor paid me in folded notes without reading the window properly. She was watching the dryer, where the sock had finally stopped moving and clung damp to the glass. "Leave the light on, love," she said. "It likes to see things through." I left it on, and the words kept shining over the wet street until the morning buses came.