Fine line black script tattoo on the inner forearm, with a grey knitted sleeve pushed back at the wrist.

Small script tattoo on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small line of cursive script in black ink runs across the inner forearm of a person whose skin is pale. The linework is thin and even, with no shading, and the lettering is hard to read at this size. The arm sits against a plain cream background with a grey knitted sleeve at the wrist, and the soft lighting and vignette keep the focus on the tattoo.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Script Cursive Word

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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 wind has been at the lamp room glass for three days now, and you have stopped hearing it, which is how you know it is bad. Tilly's letter came out on Tuesday, wedged in a tin box under the flour sacks, and you have read it so often the folds have gone soft as cloth.

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She writes in a hand that leans into itself, all loops and tails, the way people write when they were taught by nuns and never quite forgave them. Half of it you cannot make out. The page is spotted where the rain got in. You suspect she wrote "come home" and then crossed it out, or perhaps wrote "come home soon" and the ink ran. You decide it says come home, because that is what you want it to say, and because nobody on this rock has ever written you anything else.

On the fourth night the light went out at ten past two. You climbed the iron stairs with a paraffin lamp in one hand and the letter tucked in your collar, trimming the wick by feel while the glass shook like a struck bell. By dawn the sea had gone flat and grey, and the boat came for the stores as if nothing had happened.

You sent a reply the only way you can, one line pencilled on the back of the tide table, folded twice and dropped into the box with a stone for weight. Keep the lamp lit. I'll keep it burning. It was the truest thing you had ever written, and the hand looked like someone else's entirely.