Blue forget-me-not flowers on a shoulder
Realism · Shoulder · Colour · Photo
Several five-petalled blue flowers with yellow centres cluster across the shoulder blade and upper back, with some blooms overlapping others. The petals use soft shading and highlights to give them a rounded, three-dimensional look against the skin. The background is a blurred indoor room, and the tattoo fills most of the frame.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Mother never let me pick the blue ones that grew along the mill race where the forest path met the village. She said the flowers at the edge of the trees were not for picking. They were for remembering, and a girl of nine does not understand what that means until she has to.
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Tom Reeve, who burned charcoal on the ridge and taught me to whistle through a blade of grass, went down to the coast the spring the bridge washed out. He left me a sprig pressed flat between two pages of his mother's psalter, the petals gone the colour of a bruised plum. I put it in my own book and told myself I would not look at it every night. I looked at it every night.
The flowers came back thicker each year, crowding over one another along the bank as if they were jostling to be counted. I counted them every April. Five petals each, a yellow eye at the centre, and never one that had forgotten to bloom. Old Hester at the ferry said the flowers kept nothing back, and it was only people who forgot to be faithful to their own small promises.
Last April I knelt in the wet grass and picked one, the first I had ever taken from that bank. I pressed it between the pages beside his old sprig, and the two of them lay side by side, one fresh and one faded, both still holding their blue.
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