Black and grey script tattoo on a forearm, beside a tabby cat and a white mug reading Proceed as if success is inevitable.

Script tattoo on forearm with cat and mug

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A monochrome photograph of a hand holding a white mug printed with the words Proceed as if success is inevitable, with a tabby cat in the foreground. The forearm shows a fine, looping script tattoo near the wrist, partly cut off by the frame. The image has a sepia-toned finish, with the wooden floor and cat's fur giving texture to the composition.

Lettering Forearm Cat Mug Script Hand

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The cat had walked through the wet size again, so Mr Pardoe's order for the chemist's window would have to wait until morning. I sat on an upturned crate with my sleeve pushed past the elbow and watched Tibbs make a neat line of gold prints across the drop cloth, tail up like a question mark. Fenwick Lane had two hundred shopfronts and I was the only sign-writer left between the railway bridge and the chapel, so nobody minded when the work ran late.

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Mrs Vokes brought round a mug of tea at four, which she had bought at Woolworths in Hexham for her husband and then decided he did not deserve. It bore a motto in black capitals as blunt as a gatepost: Proceed as if success is inevitable. I told her the man who wrote it had never tried to lift a cat off a fresh sign. She laughed and said my letters were the only thing in the parish with any curl left in them, and would I put her name on the back of the bread van while I was at it.

I did the chemist's first. Loops first, always, the way my father taught me, then the thin strokes that catch the light and last longest. When the final flourish was down I stepped into the road to read it, and the lettering stood reversed in the glass the way it would for anyone walking the other way. Tibbs came out through the open door, picked his path through the bottles of cough mixture, and sat in the very centre of the window, where the gold ran across his back like a name written on a saddle. Mr Pardoe came out to look and said it was the finest thing on the street. I said it was the cat's doing, and let him believe whichever he liked.