Two wrists side by side with matching fine line script tattoos: 'to' followed by an infinity symbol on the left and 'and beyond' on the right, in blue ink with red accents.

To infinity and beyond matching wrist tattoos

Fine line · Other · Colour · Photo

Two wrists are shown side by side, each with a single line of fine script lettering. The left reads 'to' with an infinity symbol, and the right reads 'and beyond', with the final letters and a small mark in red. The linework is thin and even, in blue ink with red accents, and the soft-focus photograph has a pastel background.

Fine line Lettering Other Infinity symbol Script word Matching tattoo

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

At half four the ovens are still cold and flour has worked its way into the seams of your sleeves. Dilys is already scolding the dough as if it owes her money. She hands you the bench scraper without looking up. 'Whatever you're going to say, say it with your hands busy.'

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You've been rehearsing since Thursday, when the man from the council asked who owned the place and Dilys pointed straight at you. She had been waiting years for you to ask. You don't ask. You fold the dough instead, lift one edge, stretch it, fold it over, turn the bowl a quarter, the way she showed you your first winter, when your fingers cracked and bled into the rye. Keep going until it stops fighting you, she always says. Slack, she calls it.

By five the first trays are in and the shop fills with the smell that makes the milk-float driver come in every morning and buy nothing at all. Dilys tells you the lease is hers until March, and after that it's yours to lose. You say you won't lose it. She says they all say that, and slides a wooden stamp across the floury table, its handle worn pale by thirty years of thumbs. The face is a sideways eight, carved a little crooked.

You press it into the first loaf the way she taught you, one firm breath and no hesitation. When you lift it away, the loop has come out open at one end, like a sum that didn't quite close. Dilys studies it for a long time, then laughs, the proper laugh you've heard maybe twice. 'That one's yours,' she says. 'Sell it to someone who needs a bit more than forever.'