Thin black script tattoo reading Trust Without Borders on the inner forearm, with a city skyline and motorway behind.

Trust Without Borders script on forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A raised forearm shows the words Trust Without Borders written in a flowing, thin black script that runs across the inner arm. The lines are fine and even, with a few loops and flourishes on the capitals. The background is a clear blue sky, a city skyline and a wide road, with a brown wristwatch on the wrist.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Script Quote Skyline Wristwatch

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The sorting office sat beneath the flyover, where lorries rumbled through the night and the towers past the ring road kept their lights burning for nobody in particular. Ruth Okonedo had worked the late shift for nineteen years and could tell a foreign postmark by the hum of the belt before she read a word. At ten past three a thin blue envelope jammed the feed. It was addressed in pencil to a flat on the fourteenth floor of Brackley Point, a block that had come down in the spring.

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She should have binned it. Instead she sat on an upturned crate and opened it, which broke every rule Gerald had ever laid down. Inside was one sheet folded in four, and across the top, in a looping hand, were the words Trust without borders, Dorcas. Below that came a list: a tin of tea, a photograph of a bridge, a child's shoe that would never fit anyone again. There was no return address, only a stamp from a town whose name Ruth had heard on the radio twice that year.

On her lunch break she drove the van across the motorway to the care home where Dorcas Hale had been moved after the tower emptied. The old woman listened to the letter without interrupting, her hands folded over the handbag on her knees. When Ruth finished, Dorcas laughed, a dry sound like paper tearing. "Fourteenth floor. He always did post things to the wrong address." She took a biro from her cardigan pocket and pushed a clean sheet across the table.

"Then write back and tell him the road's still open," she said. "Tell him I kept the shoe."