Black fine line tattoo of a compass with Roman numerals and geometric arrows on the inner upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Compass and arrows on upper arm

Fine line · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A black ink tattoo shows a compass with a clock-style dial, Roman numerals and a north marker, set on a vertical axis with stacked chevron arrows above and a faceted diamond and arrowhead below. The linework is fine and precise, with small dots and thin construction lines around the dial, and the shading is light. The design sits on the inner upper arm against a plain pale wall and dark clothing.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Tomas, the compass you lent me has finally given up somewhere past the salt pan at Kessel Wells. I have been steering by the sun and by the dashboard clock, which runs eleven minutes fast and which I have never once remembered to correct. The needle still sticks at north, or near enough. I tapped the glass with my thumbnail the way Father used to, and it swung back to the same mark, stubborn as a mule.

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The road out here is a grey ribbon with no kerb and no sense of humour. Every few miles someone has painted chevrons on a fence post, all pointing back the way I came, which I suppose is the council's idea of encouragement. I counted nine of them before the petrol station at Orrin Cross, where a boy with a cracked phone sold me a map that had been folded so many times the eastern half had come away in my hand. He tapped the arrowhead printed in the corner and said, 'That's the one that lies least.' I did not ask him what the others did.

So I have drawn my own line. I used the back of the map and your ruler, and I laid the compass face-up on the bonnet so the dial caught the low sun. Where the shadow of the bezel fell across the Roman numeral for four, I scratched a small diamond into the paper, the way you taught me to mark a bearing we could trust. Then I started the engine and drove towards the red hills, keeping the arrow of the sun over my left shoulder.

I will post this from the next town, if there is one. Tell Mum the clock is still wrong, and that I have decided it is wrong on purpose.

Love, Nell

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