Semicolon tattoo on the inner forearm
Forearm · Black and grey · Photo
A solid black semicolon sits on the inner forearm just above the wrist, shown with the arm raised and the hand clenched. The mark is a simple filled shape with smooth edges and no shading or fine detail. The image is in full colour with a soft beige background, and a faint, partly visible tattoo appears further up near the elbow.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Shut that door, you're letting the sea in. Right. Eli Garside set type for the Cobble Harbour Reporter for forty-one years, and in all that time he never once put a full stop where a body could have used a bit of breathing room. He kept a case of lead sorts at his elbow, the small marks in the top drawer, and he knew the weight of each one by the back of his thumb.
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The spring of 1931 a woman came up from the quay in her good coat and asked him for a notice. Her husband's boat had gone out past the breakwater with two others, and only one had come back. She had written the words on the back of a grocer's bill. They read: He went out on the Thursday tide and I am waiting for him to come up the steps. Then she had put a full stop, pressed so hard the pencil tore the paper, and Eli looked at it a long while.
He told her the notice would cost a shilling. She counted the coins onto the counter and said she did not want the full stop. She wanted the pause, the bit where you stop to get your breath before the next thing. Eli said nothing. He took a semicolon from the drawer, a small crooked comma sitting over a dot, and set it into the stick with the same care he gave everything else, then he locked up the forme and went home for his tea.
The notice ran the next Friday with the sentence left open. Nobody in Cobble Harbour thought much of it, but Eli pinned the proof above his bench for the rest of his working life, and the woman came in every Thursday to stand beside it and read it through. Now that's the story, and you'll all go up to bed and not ask me whether the boat came in.
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