Fine line black script lettering tattooed on the skin behind a person's ear, close up.

Small script letters behind the ear

Fine line · Neck · Black and grey · Photo

A close-up of a small tattoo behind the ear, showing three stylised script letters in black ink. The linework is thin and even, with no shading, and the letters are arranged in a loose cluster. The image is in warm tones with the ear and loose hair framing the tattoo.

Fine line Lettering Neck Letter Script Monogram

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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

At ten past two the sorting office on Eastgate smelled of wet cardboard and warm dust, and Maud Halloran had been staring at the same envelope for most of an hour. It had slipped loose from a bundle of Christmas cards in the spill tray, addressed to nobody: no street, no postcode, just a single thin line of ink across the front, drawn so finely it looked like a hair had made it. Three marks sat in the centre, a looping e, a tall hooked stroke, and a y with its tail curled back on itself.

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She knew what happened to letters like this. They went to the dead letter shelf, where they waited six months and were then burned or auctioned for the hospice. Her supervisor, Dennis, had a rule that initials alone were a cry for someone else to decide things. Maud turned the envelope over. The flap was unsealed. Inside was one card with the same three marks repeated down the page, each a little smaller than the last, as if the sender had been practising until the lines came out right.

At half three the late van rolled in from the station, and she carried the card to the window, where the rain had turned the car park into a black mirror. Streetlamps lay across it in long orange smears. She thought about the hand that made those marks, steady enough by the fourth repetition to stop trembling at the hook.

She did not look up a name, because there wasn't one. Instead she sealed the card in a fresh envelope, wrote her own address in the corner, and dropped it into the outgoing tray. Then she went back to the spill tray and kept sorting, listening for the thud of it landing in the morning bag.