Close view of a woman's lower abdomen at the beach with a small fine line script tattoo reading live love wander, placed above the bikini bottoms.

Small script tattoo on the hip at the beach

Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo

The photograph is cropped below the shoulders and above the thighs, showing the torso in a blue bikini against turquoise sea. A small fine line script reading live love wander sits on the lower abdomen just above the bikini waistband, drawn in thin, dark ink. The composition is close and bright, with the sea and a distant boat behind the subject.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Ruth, the boat that brought me across from Kalymnos has already gone back out without me, and I am sitting on an upturned crate outside the chandler's with sand in my boots, trying to write this properly before the ink dries out. Mr Papadakis says the next crossing is Thursday if the wind holds. He says that about most things, but his coffee is good and the water here is so clear you can count the stones on the bottom from the jetty.

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You'll remember Dad's old biscuit tin on the dresser, the one with the rusted hinge. He kept his sea charts in it, and on the inside of the lid he had written three words in pencil that he never explained. I thought they were a joke about the weather. I've been trying to work out since I left whether he meant them as instructions or as a warning. Yesterday a girl selling shell necklaces asked me what they meant, because she'd seen them on a tourist's wrist, and I found I had no answer ready.

So I've decided they're instructions. I've been living, mostly, which means eating bread and fish and getting sunburnt on the back of my neck. I've loved, badly and then less badly, a boatbuilder called Stelios who cannot say my name properly and does not seem to mind. And I've wandered, which I suppose is the thing I'm best at, though I've only ever done it in the direction of other people's stories.

Tonight a ferry sits on the horizon, white and far off, lit up like a town that has come loose from the land. I used to think that was what Dad wanted me to chase. Now I think he wanted someone to write back. Enclosed is a pressed flower and a shell with a hole in it, for the tin. Keep the lid shut until I'm home. Your loving brother, Tom.

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