Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Compass rose and anchor on forearms
Forearm · Black and grey · Photo
Two forearms are shown side by side, each carrying a single black tattoo. The left arm has a compass rose with an eight-point star, a dotted ring and a solid centre, while the right arm has a small solid anchor with a ring at the top. The ink is solid black on pale skin, with a plain background and no colour.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Your sister hands you her bouquet on the harbour wall at Porthleven so she can fix a shoe strap, and the wind lifts the tissue paper off the stems and sends it skipping towards the slipway. Below you, the fishing boats knock gently against the quay. The tide is turning the way Dad always said it would, slow and then all at once.
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Ned comes up the steps from the lifeboat station still smelling faintly of diesel, a borrowed tie knotted badly at his collar. He swears he tried. You think of the March evening when the two of them sat at your kitchen table with a biro and a beer mat, arguing over who would get which mark. She wanted the compass, because she has always been the one reading the map in the back of the car. He wanted the anchor, because he has never left a room without knowing the way back. Neither would give up the easier design, so they drew both, inked both the following Saturday, and nobody has mentioned the price of the second appointment since.
At the reception the best man clinks his glass with a fork and tells the beer mat story, but gets the ending wrong, claiming they drew lots. Your sister laughs so hard she has to sit on the low wall by the marquee. Ned catches your eye across the tables and mouths something you can't read, and then he is up, weaving between the chairs, his hand already out to her.
Later, when the lanterns are lit along the quay and the tide has gone right out, she raises her arm against the last of the sky so he can line his own mark up beside hers. The two small designs sit side by side in the dusk, one pointing wherever she decides to go, the other holding fast to wherever they happen to be. You realise you have been holding the flowers the whole time.
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