Black script lettering tattooed across the neck, worn with a silver necklace of two crescent moon charms and a pink stone pendant.

Script quote tattoo on the neck

Lettering · Neck · Black and grey · Photo

A black script quote runs across the front of the neck, with the lettering partly cut off by the top and sides of the frame. The linework is fine and even, and the ink is solid black with no shading or colour. Two silver crescent moon charms and a round pink stone pendant hang from a silver chain worn over the tattoo.

Lettering Neck Script Quote Lettering Moon Crescent moon Necklace Pendant

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Ruth had the second tray of tins in the oven before the church clock struck four, and the window was still the colour of wet slate. Across the road a crescent moon hung low over the fish market, thin as a paring knife, and she kept glancing up at it the way her mother used to check the sky before a wedding.

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Her father had kept these ovens for thirty-one years and never once let the dark get the better of the dough. He used to say a loaf knows when it is being watched. So she watched it, pressing a thumb into each round to test the spring, and tried not to think about the letter in her apron pocket, the one with the solicitor's stamp that she had read four times standing beside the flour sacks.

Outside, a dog began to howl somewhere down by the slipway, long and wavering, and the sound came up the hill through the gap under the door. Ruth stopped with her hands in the dough. The saying in town was that a dog only howls at a moon it cannot reach. She had never believed it. She had believed in tins and timers and the sensible hour.

At half past five she slid the first batch onto the rack, and the kitchen filled with that yeasty sweetness that meant the day had started whether anyone was ready or not. She tore the end off a warm loaf, ate it standing up, and unlocked the back door. The dog was sitting on the step, grey and patient, its breath smoking in the cold. The moon had gone pale over the harbour. Ruth tossed it the crust and left the door open behind her.