Close view of a black band tattoo set around a forearm, with one thick line above two thinner lines, in a blackwork and geometric style.

Black bands around a forearm

Blackwork · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A forearm is shown with one solid black band and two thinner black bands encircling it, reading like a narrow armband. The lines are crisp, bold and fully saturated, with no shading or fine detail. The forearm sits against a dark patterned wallpaper, with a grey t-shirt sleeve and a thin bracelet visible near the wrist.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The oak hoop had sprung on the Tuesday, which Master Harrow said was a bad day for any cooper to start a cask, so I was sent up the lane past the last cottage with a sack of rivets and a borrowed axe. The forest began where the stone wall gave up. Beyond it the trunks stood close and grey, and the light came down in coins.

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Half a mile in I found the old boundary oak that the village had argued over since my grandfather's day. Someone had cut three bands into its bark years back, one broad and two narrow, the way we mark a barrel to show which staves belong together. Moss had grown into the cuts. Nobody in Thornwick would say who did it, only that the parish had agreed never to fell that tree while the bands stood clear.

I knelt and traced the wide band with my thumb and felt a ridge where the blade had gone deep. Then I noticed the narrow ones were fresher, cut clean, with pale wood still showing. Someone had been keeping the marks alive. I thought about the names in the parish book, the ones that stopped without a line, and I drove a rivet into the broken hoop there and then, by the root, so the cask would hold for whoever came next to fill it.

Coming back down, the village chimneys were smoking and Master Harrow stood at the door with his arms folded. "Well?" he said. I showed him the fresh rivet. He nodded slowly, said it was the first honest work I'd done all week, and went inside without asking where I had been.

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