Fine black angular lettering tattoo on the inner forearm of a person wearing a white top, shown in a close side view.

Small angular lettering on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small tattoo of thin black angular characters sits on the inner forearm, formed from straight strokes and sharp angles. The linework is clean and even, with no shading, and the ink is solid black. The arm fills the centre of the frame against a plain white top and a dark, speckled background.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Letter Text

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The tape came through at ten past three, the same three-letter group it had carried every night that week, and Walter Haig copied it onto the blotter without lifting his eyes from the clock. Angular characters, all corners and straight strokes, the way the Admiralty liked them so no clerk could mistake a bowl for a loop in a bad hour. He had stopped asking what the groups meant around the time his wife stopped asking him to come home for supper.

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The night the tape changed, the lamp in the Cornish relay room flickered and the sea outside made its long iron sound against the cable hut. Walter read the group twice, then a third time, and found that the final letter had been struck with a heavier hand, the stroke pressed deep enough to tear the paper. Someone at the far end had wanted him to feel it. He ran his thumb along the dent and thought of the trawler Morwenna, whose crew had been overdue since Tuesday.

He took a fresh sheet, ruled his own corners, and sent the reply the procedure allowed: RECEIVED. Then, because no procedure forbade it, he tapped the three letters back, slow and sharp, one stroke after another, until the sounder on the wall answered with the same three letters and then went silent for the rest of the shift.

At dawn the Morwenna's boat came in on the tide with four men and a boy who had been sick over the rail. Walter logged the arrival in the margin of the book, beside the old groups, and wrote nothing else. Down in the dark the cable ran on, carrying its angles to wherever they were needed.