Fine black script lettering reading Serendipity across the top of a bare foot, with red toenail polish and grass in the background.

Serendipity script on the top of a foot

Lettering · Other · Black and grey · Photo

A bare foot rests on grass and bare soil, with a frayed denim cuff at the ankle. The word Serendipity is written in flowing black cursive script across the top of the foot, running from the mid-foot towards the toes. The red toenail polish and natural daylight give the photo a warm tone, and the foot fills most of the frame.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit down, sit, the kettle's on and the 4.10 is forty minutes late, so you've time for the story whether you like it or not. Nobody at Carrowmere Junction ever lost a thing on purpose. Things just drift off the platform the way leaves do. This one came off the 6.52 in the November fog, pressed flat inside a seed packet, and on the back someone had written one word in pencil, slanting and fine: Serendipity.

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Ivy Marrable was on the ticket hatch that week, and her job said post it to the lost property office in the city. She didn't. She read the word three times, tucked the packet into her cardigan pocket, and sat there until the lamps went on, wondering who buys a packet of sweet peas and thinks to write a word on it. Chance, she supposed. Sheer chance. Her mother had always said the world was rigged for people who looked up.

She sowed them in the window box by the hatch come March, half-hearted, with a trowel the porter had left behind. Nothing came up for weeks. Then in May a tall gentleman in a grey coat stepped off the same line, asked after a packet of sweet peas, and stood there turning his hat in both hands until she understood he was the one who had written the word. He'd dropped it reading the timetable, he said, and hadn't the nerve to ask for it back.

The sweet peas were climbing the hatch by then, purple and crooked. She gave him the packet with the word still on it. He read it aloud, quietly, as if it were a platform announcement. Then he bought a return ticket to a town he had no reason to visit, and she was still at the hatch when the next train came in, and she didn't check the clock once.

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