Small thin black lowercase lettering reading cry on the upper back near the shoulder blade, in a fine line style.

Small cry lettering on upper back

Lettering · Back · Black and grey · Photo

The photo shows a small tattoo of the lowercase word cry in thin black ink on bare skin beside the shoulder blade. The linework is fine and even, with simple, slightly uneven strokes that suggest handwritten lettering. The image is in black and grey only, with the tattoo placed off centre against a soft, lightly lit background of skin and blonde hair.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The wasps had got into the windfalls again, and Sorrel swatted at them with the flat of her hand while she read the tag for the third time. It was a strip of tin, the kind her grandfather cut from old biscuit tins, nailed to a stake at the end of row nine. Someone had scratched a single word into it with a bradawl: cry.

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Nobody at Hollis Farm could say why the Blenheim there had never fruited. Gran said he used to walk the rows after supper, talking to the trees the way other men talked to dogs, and that he had grafted this one himself the spring before he got ill. The tag was the only thing of his left out in the orchard. Sorrel had expected something stern. Instead she found herself crouched at the foot of the trunk in the long grass, her knees damp, looking up at bark cracked like old varnish.

She understood it slowly. The graft had split in a hard frost two winters back, and he must have bound it with garden twine and then sat out here telling it what it had lost. A tree does not cry. But where the bark had torn, sap had beaded clear and dried gold along the seam, and she saw that the wound had been weeping and closing all along, slow as a bruise going yellow.

She untied the tag and pocketed it, then thought better of it and nailed it back on with the same rusted nail, lower this time, where anyone passing would have to stoop to read it. Above her the first fruit of the year hung green and hard in the afternoon light. She left the windfalls for the wasps and walked back up the row to fetch the ladder.

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