Black and grey photo of a forearm with the words I go to seek a great perhaps tattooed in a typewriter-style lettering font.

Typewriter quote on a forearm

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A forearm is shown across the frame, with the phrase "I go to seek a great perhaps" tattooed in a single line of typewriter-style lettering. The letters are crisp, evenly spaced and dark, with the skin tone creating subtle shading in the photograph. The wearer's white t-shirt with a printed graphic sits behind the arm, and the top of the head is cropped out of frame.

Lettering Forearm Quote Text Word Typewriter font

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dad had the typewriter out on the kitchen table again when I came down, the black Olympia with the dented carriage, and he was hitting the keys with two fingers as if they had insulted him. Frost furred the inside of the window. The Aga ticked. He didn't look up. "Ledger's gone soft with damp," he said. "Your mother kept the feed accounts in it. I can't read her figures any more."

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I'd been packed since Sunday. The bag sat by the back door under the dog's blanket, and the bus to Carlisle left at seven. I'd told him in October. He'd nodded and said the lambing would manage, which it did, badly, and I think that was worse than shouting would have been.

He wound the sheet out, read it, and held it up to me without a word. Across the top, crooked, were the figures: barley, the ewes owed, Haddon's boy's wages. Under them, in the same jumping capitals, he'd typed a line from the battered paperback in the porch, the one Mum used to read aloud when the power went. I go to seek a great perhaps. Every letter had bitten the paper hard and sat level beside the next.

"Tell me that's a joke," I said.

"It's a list," he said, and turned back to the keys. "Take the bag, then. The bus won't wait for the both of us to be sensible." I picked it up and left the back door open behind me, and the frost came in across the flags after me, and I didn't shut it.