Two wrists with black script lettering reading Stay and Strong, with a small red lip print and a small red heart beside them, on a forearm against a black background.

Stay and Strong script wrist tattoos

Lettering · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

Two wrists are shown with hands raised against a black background. The left wrist has the word Stay in bold black script with flourished strokes, and the right wrist has Strong in matching script, with a small red heart beside it. A red lip print sits below the Stay lettering on the left wrist.

Lettering Forearm Script Heart

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The ovens at Pemberton Lane lit themselves at four, so by the time the sky over the car park turned the colour of weak tea, the first tins were already cooling and the back room smelled of scorched sugar. My brother came in through the yard door without knocking, the way he had since he was nine. He had flour on his collar and a ferry ticket folded in his top pocket that he kept touching like a loose tooth.

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"Dad's boat leaves Hull on Friday," he said. "I'm not on it." I didn't ask who had decided that for him. I took the peel off its hook and slid a tray of rolls into the oven, because that is what you do with your hands when the thing you want to say is too big for the room. Mrs Adeyemi from the flats came in for her Tuesday split tin, as she always did, and kissed the paper bag for luck. She left a smear of red on the top fold, the exact shape of her mouth.

Tomas stared at that mark as if it were a letter. "She says if I go, she'll wait at the harbour every morning." "Then stay," I said, sharper than I meant to. He laughed, the first real laugh I'd heard from him in a week, and reached for the grease pencil on the shelf. Under the lipstick he printed one word in careful capitals: STAY. He pushed the bag back at me as if it were my turn. I thought about it while the rolls browned, then drew a small heart beside it, because I hadn't written anything I believed in since spring.

He went out at half six with the bag folded twice in his coat, and the yard was just beginning to find the bins in the grey light. I stayed at the oven until the last tray was out. Then I took the pencil and wrote the other word on my own wrist, where I could see it every time I reached for the dough.