Close-up of a blue shaded diamond with black outlines and small sparkle marks, surrounded by traditional flash motifs on a forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Blue diamond in a traditional arm tattoo

Traditional · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A faceted blue diamond with black outlines and small radiating marks sits at the centre of the frame. It is shaded with lighter and darker blues, and surrounded by red, green, teal and yellow traditional motifs such as leaves, a flower and a rounded shape. The image is a close, straight-on photograph of a limb with the tattoo filling most of the frame.

Traditional Forearm Diamond Sparkle Leaf Flower

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The mule would not take the last bend until Tomas had lit the lantern and held it against the rock, so he stood there with his breath freezing into his collar, waiting for Patience to decide that the drop beside her was not a grave. Snow came sideways off the col. Behind him the valley had already gone, swallowed by cloud, and ahead the track ran white and narrow between two walls of grey stone.

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He had been paid in salt and a promise to carry a sealed box to the hospice on the far side. The box was light. At the foot of the pass he had shaken it once and heard something turn over inside, knocking like a loose tooth against wood. He had not opened it. His aunt used to say that a man who opens other people's boxes on a mountain ends up keeping them, and he had heard enough stories in the salt houses to believe her.

At the summit the wind dropped all at once, as if someone had shut a door. Thin sun broke through the cloud and laid itself across the snow, and Tomas, unable to help himself, unpicked the cord. Inside, wrapped in a rag, sat a blue stone cut into many faces. When he tilted it toward the light, the facets threw out short bright lines, like the marks a child draws beside something that shines, and for a moment the whole pass seemed to glitter with them.

He wrapped it up again and walked on with the lantern dimmed, not wanting thieves to see where the light came from. At the hospice door the keeper, an old woman with frost in her eyebrows, asked what he was carrying. Tomas said it was salt. She laughed, held out her hand, and for the first time that winter he felt the box grow heavier as he gave it up.