Fine line drawing of an outlined triangle with the script word love, the o replaced by a small heart, sketched in dark ink on paper.

Triangle with script word design

Fine line · Black and grey · Flash

A single-line sketch of an upright equilateral triangle with a handwritten script word across its base, where the letter o is drawn as a small heart. The linework is thin and even, with no shading, and the ink is dark blue or black on a pale cream background. The triangle fills most of the centre of the frame, with the word sitting low inside it.

Fine line Triangle Script Heart Love Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rain had stopped, but Ambrose insisted the pennant be lettered before we struck the tent, so I sat on an upturned crate in the mud at Hollins Field with a pot of blue enamel and a brush that had lost half its bristles to the damp. The big top was already sagging. Three of the lions had gone to a sanctuary in Wales, the Gerardi girls had taken the trapeze to a holiday park, and the only crowd left was the gulls working the bins behind the caravans.

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'Put love on it,' he said. 'Not the name of the show. Nobody reads the name anyway.' His wife Dot had sewn the first triangle of canvas in 1961, and she used to say a pennant was just a heart that had learned to point somewhere. I tried the letters low in the point where the cloth narrowed, but the o kept closing up and looking like a bruise. In the end I drew it as a small heart, the way Dot used to dot her i's, and Ambrose laughed so hard he had to sit down on the step of the wagon.

We raised it that evening on the one tall pole, and it hung above a ring with nobody in it but a boy on a unicycle and his mother holding a torch. The wind got under the canvas and turned it like a sail. Ambrose stood beside me with his cap in his hands and said nothing for a long while. Then he said the heart was the only part of the sign that would still be legible from the road, because that was where the blue was thickest.

We folded it at midnight and packed it into the van with the spare poles. I remember thinking it would be the last thing anybody saw of us, a small heart sitting low in a triangle, pointed at the dark fields and the motorway lights beyond them.