Two wrists with matching fine script tattoos, one reading "to" with an infinity symbol and the other reading "and beyond" in blue with red accents, on the inner wrist.

"to infinity" and "and beyond" wrist script

Lettering · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

Two inner wrists are shown side by side, each carrying part of a phrase in cursive script. The left reads "to" followed by an infinity symbol, and the right reads "and beyond", with small dots and a short red mark near the final letters. The linework is thin and even, with the main script in blue ink and the red accents adding colour against the pale skin, and the wrists fill the frame against a soft, blurred background.

Lettering Fine line Forearm Infinity Script Word Matching tattoo Wrist Phrase

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dot had the pen in her teeth when the needle buzzed, and the ink man in Margate swore he had never done a job in two halves before. We had sixpence between us, a bus ticket home and a mother who would skin us both. Dot wanted 'to infinity' on her left wrist, the side nearest her heart, because she said that was how far she meant to go. I took the right and the words 'and beyond', because someone had to finish the sentence.

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The ink man made us sit side by side on the bench so the lines would meet when our arms rested together. He was careful with the infinity sign, looping it three times before he was satisfied, and he tapped the dots after 'to' with the very tip of the needle. The red was for the little swift he insisted on drawing near my last letter, which Dot said was showing off. I told her it was a bird going on without her, and she pushed my shoulder hard enough to hurt.

Dot took the ferry to Ostend the following spring with a suitcase and a man from the Sunday dance hall. I stayed in the flat above the chemist and learned the Ramsgate timetable by heart. Her letters came on thin blue airmail paper, always signed with a loop that looked like the sign on her wrist. I wrote back about the weather and the price of coal and never once asked her to come home.

Last Tuesday the postman brought a card with no return address, just a photograph of a harbour wall and a line in her looping hand: to infinity, and beyond. I held my wrist up to the window and the sun came through the ink. My sister was still going, and so, I thought, was I.