Script word beautiful on upper arm
Lettering · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo
The tattoo spells the word beautiful in flowing, joined cursive script across the upper arm. The linework is fine and even, with thicker strokes at the loops and tails, and it is done in solid black ink with no shading or colour. The skin is pale and the photograph is taken close up, with the lettering running diagonally across the frame against a dark wooden background.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The Bramley trees at Hollins Farm had dropped half their fruit by the time you came back up the lane, and the wasps had already got into the windfalls. Your father was on the ladder when the car pulled in, pruning shears in one hand, pretending he had not been watching the road since breakfast.
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You had not written in eleven months, and he did not mention it. He handed you a basket and pointed at the far rows, where the old cider trees leaned on their props like men waiting for a bus, and said the Conference pears wanted picking before the frost. You walked the rows with your sister's letter folded in your coat pocket, the one from June asking you to come home for once and never mind the rest.
Nan had labelled every crate in the packing shed, one word apiece, in the looping hand she used for birthday cards: sharp, sweet, sound, shy. The last crate on the back bench had only one, still legible under the dust, faded to brown. Beautiful. You had laughed at it as a child, because the fruit was no better than anyone's, bruised on one side and lopsided as a worn shoe. Your father stood in the shed doorway and told you she had chosen that word for the tree that lost its top limb in the storm and kept fruiting anyway.
You took the basket to that tree by the gate, bare on its north side, its pears hanging low enough to reach without the ladder. You picked the lopsided one first, turned it in your palm, and bit into it. It was sweet all the way through. You said nothing, left the rest for him to find, and climbed the ladder to fetch the high ones yourself.
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