Black ink tattoo on a limb showing a large outlined circle enclosing three smaller rings with upward arrows, silhouettes and a spider, with the words keep running below.

Three circles with arrows and keep running text

Other · Black and grey · Photo

A bold black tattoo shows a large outlined circle containing three smaller rings, each topped with an upward arrow. The left ring holds a solid silhouette of a globe-like shape, the right ring holds a figure silhouette, and the lower centre ring holds a spider, while a figure silhouette stands above on a chain. The words keep running. sit beneath in a small typewriter-style lowercase font, all in black ink on pale skin.

Other Circle Arrow Silhouette Figure Globe Spider Chain Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The bell in St Aldhelm's had not rung since the flood, so when the spider came down the rope on Tuesday morning, Mabel Trusk knew someone would have to climb up and see why. She was sixty-one, had buried two husbands and kept the wool shop on Crowther Lane for thirty years, and she said she had no patience left for ladders. Still, she tied her skirt above her knees, borrowed Dennis Hay's torch from the vestry hook, and went.

Keep reading

The spider was the size of a saucer. It had strung a web across the bell frame, and caught in the middle, turning slowly on its thread, was a tin figure no taller than a hand. Someone had painted it red a long time ago, and the paint had mostly gone. Mabel knew the face. Her brother Walter had made it for the church fete in 1921, a little hanged man the children were allowed to shoot at with ping-pong balls for a penny. She had not thought of it in forty years. Below her the river ran brown under the arches, carrying crates and branches past the old wharf as if nothing had happened.

She worked the figure loose with a hairpin. The spider did not bite her. It only moved along the frame and watched, its legs folded, the way Walter used to watch a card game he had already won. When Mabel reached the bottom rung, the bell gave one low note, and she felt it through the iron like a hand on her back.

That evening she set the tin man on her windowsill, facing the water. In the morning there was a new web across the glass, fine as thread, and a single grey spider sitting at the centre of it, already spinning.