Two hands held together, each with a black script lettering tattoo on the back: Time Lord on the left hand and Companion on the right.

Time Lord and Companion script on hands

Lettering · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

Two hands are pressed together, each showing a single line of black script lettering on the back of the hand. The left reads Time Lord and the right reads Companion, with smooth, flowing strokes and soft edges. The ink is black against light skin, set on a pale, plain background with the words placed near the centre of each hand.

Lettering Hand Couple Script word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit closer, the pair of you, for the wind up here steals words before a man has finished them. That is Hollin Gap, and the flat stone with the two faded hands pressed into it is the one every drover touches for luck. Hush now, and I will tell you how it came by its marks.

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Nell Harrow kept the church clock in Dunmere, and she kept it badly, because the stranger who came over the pass in the snow had stopped its pendulum with a single look. He called himself a Time Lord, which Nell took for a madman's boast until he wound the clock backwards and the village children grew a day younger and then, rather sheepishly, a day older again. He needed someone to carry his lantern across the high ground, since the hours up there bent under his boots, and he chose Nell because she was the only one who did not flinch.

They walked for three nights. On the last, beside the cairn at the top, he took her hand and wrote her name across the back of it in soot and spit, then wrote his own across his. Companion, he said, is the word for the one who stays when the road goes sideways. Nell laughed and asked what he would be called when the road ran flat, and he said he had never once been asked, not in all his long years.

He did not come back down the pass. Nell returned alone with the lantern, and the church clock ran true for the first time in forty years, which the village took as proof of something she never explained. Every spring she climbs to the cairn and lays her palm on the flat stone beside his print, and every spring the wind catches her name in the gap and carries it back to her, a little late, the way time does for those who keep it.