Two small black script tattoos reading My First and My Last sit on the shoulders of two people, one with wavy blonde hair.

Script words on two shoulders

Lettering · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

Two people are shown close together, with their heads turned away from the camera so their faces are not visible. Each has a small black script tattoo on the shoulder, one reading My First and the other My Last. The lettering is fine and thin with soft shading, set against warm, slightly yellow-toned skin and a striped top.

Lettering Fine line Shoulder Script Word Text

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nell kept the tally on the back of a feed bill, a pencil stub tucked behind her ear, the way her father had. Snow sat on the lambing shed roof in a grey crust, and every hour she walked the pens with a torch, counting. By four in the morning ewe thirty-eight had given her a single lamb, slick and limp, and she rubbed it with straw until it sneezed and tried to stand.

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Davy came across the yard with two mugs of tea, the steam lifting off them like smoke from a bonfire. He had been home from the cattle lorry job a fortnight and still walked as if the ground might shift under him. "Forty-one," he said, reading over her shoulder. "Your dad would have wanted it in ink." She shook her head. "Pencil's what he used. Pencil's what we keep."

The last ewe, forty-four, took until dawn. Twin ram lambs, and the second came out blue and quiet. Nell worked his ribs with her thumbs while Davy held the lamp steady, and then the little thing coughed and the whole shed seemed to lean toward him. She wrote beside forty-four in careful capitals: MY LAST. Davy snorted. "You're putting words on a feed bill now?"

"It's the only tally that's ever been true," she said, and folded it twice into the tin of ear tags, under the lid, where the snow couldn't get at it. Outside, the sky was going the colour of skimmed milk, and somewhere behind the barn a ewe was already calling for the next one.