Black and grey fine line geometric tattoo of overlapping circles, dots and a small triangle on the inner forearm.

Concentric circles and triangle on forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A cluster of thin black linework forms overlapping circles of different sizes, with small dots and a triangle at the top joined by straight vertical and diagonal lines. The fine, even strokes are unshaded, and the design sits in the centre of the frame on the inner forearm against a softly blurred background.

Fine line Geometric Forearm Circle Triangle Dot Line Geometric shape

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nell brought the paper rolled up in a biscuit tin to the reunion in the village hall, where the last four of Form Four sat under strip lights that buzzed like wasps. Mr Ashdown had taught them that the planets kept to their own roads round the sun, and that a triangle at the top of a page meant the pen should stop and wait for the answer.

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Dennis Parr laughed and said nobody had carried a school compass for fifty years. Nell unrolled the sheet anyway, weighted the corners with sugar bowls, and showed them the drawing. It was a set of rings, one inside the next, and a scatter of small circles beyond them. Each dot was a classmate. Some had gone to sea, some to Leeds, some to the churchyard behind the chapel. Straight lines ran between them like thread pulled tight across a loom.

Folk in the valley said that when a ring closes on itself, the people inside it can speak across the gap. Nobody at the table believed that. But Dennis put his finger on the smallest dot, the one that had been Tommy Wardle, and the hall went quiet in the way it only does when a clock stops. The lines seemed to hum. Somebody's tea went cold without anyone lifting the cup.

When the caretaker came to lock up and switched the lights off, they sat on in the dark a while longer. By the time he found the switch again the paper was rolled, the sugar bowls were back on the hatch, and Nell had gone home. Only the triangle was left, pressed into the varnish of the table where the point of her compass had rested.