Small fine line tattoo of a cabin among pine trees with a crescent moon, placed on the outer thigh of a person in shorts.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cabin and pine trees on a thigh

Fine line · Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

A small cabin with a pitched roof and a lit window sits between several tall pine trees, with a crescent moon and a faint cloud above it. The linework is thin and sketched, with light hatched shading on the roof and tree trunks. The ink is dark grey to black on a mid-toned skin, and the tattoo is centred on the thigh against a plain background of grass.

Fine line Thigh Cabin Pine tree Crescent moon Forest Moon Cloud House

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The loaves were still warm when Edith Quill reached the cabin at the end of the pine road, and the moon was a thin paring above the firs. Nobody had lived up there since old Tobias Greave went into the ground in the hard winter, yet the window glowed every dawn, so every dawn Edith carried a basket of bread up the track and left it on the step. Her mother had done the same before her, and her grandmother before that. Nobody had ever told them why. They were only told not to knock.

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This morning the window was dark. The step was bare, the cloth folded square, and last week's basket sat where she had left it, the bread gone hard as slate. Edith lifted the latch, which she had never done, and the cabin smelled of cold ash and pine resin. On the table lay a tin lamp with no oil in it, and beside it a sprig of rowan wrapped in linen, sewn with a name she could not read in the grey light.

She filled the lamp from the flask in her apron, struck a match from the box by the hearth, and set it in the window. Then she stood on the step until the wick caught and the glass warmed to gold. She walked back down through the trees with the empty basket knocking against her hip, and above the ridge the moon went out like a coin dropped in a well, and the bakery bell began to ring for the first batch.