Black and grey script lettering reading For her I'd risk it all on a forearm, with a second line, Because of her I will not fall, on the other arm.

Script quotes on two forearms

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two stacked black and white photographs show a quote in cursive script on each forearm. The upper line reads For her I'd risk it all, and the lower line reads Because of her I will not fall, both in fine, clean linework with soft grey shading. The lettering runs diagonally across each arm, and the plain background keeps the focus on the text.

Lettering Forearm Quote Script Text Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The wind off the estuary had teeth that morning, and Mags wanted the scaffold tied off before the tide turned. Her brother Kit was already out on the cradle, forty metres of grey air under his boots, scraping flaking red lead from the gusset plates of the old Haddow Bridge. He never looked down. She had told him so at breakfast, and he had only grinned and said he would leave the looking to the gulls.

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The man from the council had a clipboard and a theory. The bridge was sound, he said, the paint was a formality, and nobody needed a grown woman risking her neck over a few sheets of rust. Mags didn't argue. She climbed the ladder instead, rung by rung, and found Kit with a rag knotted round his wrist to keep the brush from slipping. He held up the tin of primer. "Hold the line for me. That's all I need."

The cradle shifted at a quarter past eleven, a dull shudder and then a drop that made the whole deck gasp. Kit swung out over the water with one hand locked on the rail and his boots kicking at nothing. Mags wrapped the rope twice around the cleat, set her heels against the planking, and leaned back until the fibres sang. The council man was shouting something about insurance. She didn't hear it. She heard only the rope, and Kit's breathing coming up through it like a tide.

That evening they sat on the riverbank with their backs against a bollard and the paint drying in the tins. Kit pulled a stub of chalk from his pocket and wrote on the underside of the deck plate where no inspector would ever bother to look. Mags read it upside down and laughed until she had to wipe her eyes. "Nobody reads the underside of a bridge," he said. "That's rather the point," she told him.