Traditional style colour tattoo of an arrow with a red heart in the arrowhead and a red bow shape, on an upper arm, beside part of a woman's profile tattoo.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Arrow with heart tip and woman profile

Traditional · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A colour tattoo of an arrow runs diagonally across the skin, with a dark arrowhead containing a red heart and a red bow shape around the shaft. Teal dots and small amber diamonds sit around the arrow, and a woman's profile tattoo with a red-lipped face is partly visible on the right. The bold black outlines and flat solid fills are typical of traditional American flash, and the image is taken close up with the tattoo filling most of the frame.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody on Sandmere Pier could split a heart at forty feet except Bet Calloway, and she'd tell you so herself before you'd finished asking. Her father ran the rifle gallery under the big wheel, and he'd sworn her never to shoot for money. So she shot for the sparks instead, the little amber diamonds that flew off the tin whenever a true shot landed. Sixpence a go, and she gave the sparks back to the children in paper twists of sherbet.

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The summer the travelling painter came, he offered to put a picture on her arm in exchange for a week of target practice. He drew an arrow, bright as a fishing float, with a black spearhead and a red heart sitting in its point. Her mother said it was vulgar. Her father said it was a fair trade, so long as the heart stayed where the arrow said it should. Bet liked the red bow looped round the shaft, the way it looked like a ribbon tied by somebody who meant it.

On the last night of the season the wind came off the sea and knocked the gallery lamp askew. Bet lined up on the tin heart at the back, the one her father had painted red for luck, and felt the arrow sit true in her hand. She didn't fire. She sat on the counter and let the swinging light drift across the boards, and when her father asked why she'd passed up the easiest shot of her life, she said some hearts are worth keeping whole.

He didn't argue. The painter came back the next spring to finish the fair's sign, found her still at the counter, and added one more diamond to her arm before he left. The paint has softened at the edges now, like the old sea wall, and Bet says the spearhead is the only part of the arrow that ever hit anything worth hitting.

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