Black typewriter-style lettering reading rather, they were too frightened to be cowards, tattooed along the inside of a forearm in front of a bookshelf.

Typewriter-style quote on a forearm

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a forearm carrying a line-by-line quotation in a typewriter-style typeface, set in black ink with clean, even strokes. The lines step down diagonally along the arm, and the blurred bookshelf behind gives a neutral, muted background.

Lettering Forearm Quote Text Typewriter font Word

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Tom, I have typed your name four times tonight, once on the proofs and three times on the envelopes I was meant to be stuffing with notices, and each time the letter k stuck and I had to strike it with the heel of my hand the way Mr Okafor showed me. The night desk at the Lantern Street office is empty now that the presses have gone home. Rain ticks on the skylight and the gas lamp in Cole Yard hisses like it has something to say. I am using the spoiled sheets because I cannot bear to waste good paper on something you will only read once.

Keep reading

Mrs Ashdown's boy came back on the Thursday train with his cap in his hands and no medal on his chest. By Saturday the whole of Pell Street had crossed to the other pavement when he walked past, and the Gazette ran a column about men who had left their posts. I set that column myself. I set every word of it, letter by letter, and I did not once look up from the composing stick to wonder who had written it. I should have.

Yesterday I went to the reading room at the Central Library, where the old bound volumes sit under green lamps, and I found the diary of a clerk from the last war. He had kept a record of the men sent out from this very city, and in the margin of one page, in faded ink, he had written something I have not been able to put down since. He said the men who came back shaking were not cowards. Rather, they were too frightened to be cowards.

Come home by the last train, Tom. Bring your cap if you still have it. I will leave the lamp lit in the back room, and I will not type anything tonight except your name, which I have decided to set properly this time, all the way to the end.