Black lettering tattoo in a typewriter-style font reading history will be kind to me, running down the inner forearm near the wrist.

Typewriter quote on the inner wrist

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a hand and inner wrist, with a four-line quote in a typewriter-style font running down the forearm: history will be kind to me for I intend to write it. The lettering is set in black ink with soft grey shading at the edges, and the lines are evenly spaced and slightly angled along the arm. The pale, softly lit background with small blue dots fills the frame around the hand.

Lettering Forearm Quote Text Word Hand

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nell had the typewriter open on a trestle behind the dodgems before the first lorry had finished rolling onto the field at Sowerby. Her father's hand-lettered handbills were fine for the bearded lady and the Wall of Death, but the council wanted something typed on the proper form, and the form wanted a history of the Brightwater Travelling Fair going back to 1911, with no gaps and no mention of the winter the lions died.

Keep reading

She rolled in a sheet of carbon and began where the paper began. The ribbon was dry, so every letter came out grey at the edges, and she kept striking the same keys harder than they needed. Her father came past with a bucket of grease, read the page over her shoulder and said nothing. He only tapped the top of the machine twice, the way he tapped a temperamental engine.

By dusk the form was full of cheerful lies: a steady crowd, a clean safety record, a ghost train that never once stuck halfway through the tunnel. Nell read it back under the bare bulb and felt sick. Then she typed the one line she had been carrying since February, the one her father had taught her, which was that the people who paid for the ride were the ones who got to say what it had been.

She pulled the sheet free, folded it into thirds and slid it under the lid of the cash box. Tomorrow the inspector would stamp it. Tonight the generator hummed, the lights came on along the midway, and somewhere past the caravans a child was already shrieking with joy at the top of the big wheel.