Black fine-line eight-point star beside cursive lettering reading let it go on the inner forearm, photographed outdoors against a blurred green background.

Star and script lettering on the forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A fine-line black ink star with eight radiating points sits near the wrist, with a cursive script phrase reading let it go running diagonally down the forearm. The linework is thin and even, with no shading or colour, and the design is set against a soft, out-of-focus outdoor background of trees and greenery.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Star Script Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Brother Ansel had kept the night watch on the roof of St Erwin's for thirty-one winters, and in all that time he had never once lost the star. It was a small bright point above the eastern fells, and the novices relied on it to find the bell rope in the dark. Tonight the new boy, Tobias, stood beside him with a lantern that kept guttering, and his hands would not stop shaking.

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"It's cracked," Tobias said, holding out the brass astrolabe. A hairline split ran straight through the ring his own master had engraved with eight rays. "I dropped it on the stair. I can mend it if you give me the solder."

Ansel took the instrument and turned it over in the cold. He thought of every hand that had carried it up these steps, and of how often he had checked the rays against a sky that had never once moved for him. "Leave it with me tonight," he said. "Go and sleep."

At dawn he walked down to the mere where the old brothers buried what could not be repaired. The reeds were silver with frost. He held the astrolabe for a long moment, feeling the crack bite into his thumb, and then he set it on the black water and watched the current draw it slowly towards the reeds. Behind him the gate creaked. Tobias had followed, and was standing with his arms folded tight against the chill. Ansel did not turn round. He only said, quietly, "Let it go," and found, to his surprise, that he meant it.