Fine line black tattoo of a crescent moon with three small stars on a woman's upper chest near the collarbone.

Crescent moon and stars on the collarbone

Fine line · Chest · Black and grey · Photo

A small black tattoo of a crescent moon with three tiny four-pointed stars sits on the upper chest, just below the collarbone. The linework is thin and even, with no shading, and the image is cropped below the chin and above the top of the white V-neck top. The plain skin and white top keep the focus on the small, single-colour design.

Fine line Chest Moon Crescent moon Star Celestial

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The chart said Harrow's Reach was three days off, but the stars had stopped moving the week the forward lamp turned green, and I had learned not to trust what the instruments told me about distance. So I sat on the cold deck plate with my back against the hydroponics hatch and watched the thin crescent of the old moon slide past the viewport, with the three small lights we had named after the crew who signed on at Tessaly yard.

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Mabel found me there at the third bell. She carried two cups of the grey tea we had all learned to pretend was good, and she sat down without asking, the way she always did when she had already decided what she was going to say. 'Teodor thinks the Reach is a rumour,' she said. 'Says the beacon has been dead since before we left.' 'It isn't a rumour,' I said. 'I've seen the glint on the dust.' It was true, and neither of us said what we both knew: a glint on dust is not the same as a dock with a lock that opens.

We drank the tea. Outside, the crescent turned a little, the way a thing does when it has been turning for three hundred years and does not care whether anyone is watching. Mabel reached over and tapped the glass beside the smallest star, where a scratch had been polished smooth by a thumb.

'Set the course by the moon,' she said. 'Stars don't go anywhere. That's the whole point of them.' So I did. We kept the crescent on our left for four days, and on the fifth the Reach rose out of the dark exactly where the three small lights had promised it would. Teodor came up from his bunk without a word, stood between us at the glass, and didn't bother to wipe his face.