Solid black mermaid silhouette tattoo on the inner forearm near the wrist, with the tail curving down to the left and one arm raised.

Black mermaid silhouette on a wrist

Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A solid black silhouette of a mermaid swims diagonally across the inner forearm, with her tail curving down to the left and one arm stretched up towards the top right. The fill is mostly flat black with a few small pale gaps and a slightly textured finish. The photograph shows only black ink on pale skin, with a window and blinds blurred in the background.

Forearm Mermaid Silhouette Tail Wrist

Find an artist for this

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

Hush now, and keep your hands moving on that dough. The ovens won't wait for a tale, but they'll forgive us a minute. Down at Porthcurno, before the lamps of the lifeboat house were lit, a baker named Hal Trevena kept a window full of cob loaves that were never once short by morning. He blamed the rats, then the gulls, then his own wife, who only laughed and said the sea wanted feeding.

Keep reading

One February he sat up with a sack of flour in his lap and watched the black water. A shape came up under the quay wall, long and dark as ink spilt on slate. It lifted one arm, slow as a heron's neck, and rapped three knuckles on the glass. He fetched the warm cob from the sill, set it on the ledge, and stepped back, his heart going like a flour sifter.

She came every night after that, and she never took the bread without leaving something behind. A grey cowrie, a scrap of green sea glass, once a silver thimble that had belonged to a drowned girl from the Lizard. Hal began to leave a little more in return, a pinch of salt in a twist of paper, a bit of saffron wrapped in muslin. When the winter storms took the quay wall, he feared she had gone down with it.

Then, one grey morning, a black tail flicked at the edge of the harbour while the sky above the headland paled from the east. She lay on the rocks with one arm raised, as if to say goodbye. Hal walked down through the wet with a loaf in each hand and found only the wash of the tide and a single scale of light on the stones. He ate one of the loaves himself that day, and he could still taste the salt on it.