Two hands high-fiving, showing a small black fine line crescent moon on one forearm and a small black fine line sun on the inner wrist of the other arm.

Crescent moon and sun wrist tattoos

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two hands meet in a high five, with a small crescent moon outline on one forearm near the wrist and a small sun with spiky rays on the inner wrist of the other arm. Both tattoos are drawn in thin, solid black linework with no shading or colour. The plain pale wall and patterned chair sit behind the hands, and a beaded bracelet and rings are visible.

Fine line Forearm Crescent moon Sun Hand Wrist

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The lift on Ashdown House had been broken since March, so Del and I met on the stairs, nineteen floors of them, usually at ten past seven when she was coming in from the bakery and I was heading out to the chemist's early shift. We had worked out the timing without ever discussing it. She'd be on the half-landing by the fire door with a paper bag of rolls under one arm, and I'd be on the step above, and one of us would lift a hand.

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The high five started as a joke about the stairs being a relay. Del said the sun was hers because she was up before anyone else, and I said the moon was mine because I was the one who came home to a flat that smelt of nothing. We drew them on in biro on the back of a takeaway menu, then sat on the bottom step and argued about whether a sun needed spikes. In the end we went to Marlon at the shop under the Co-op, who did them in twenty minutes with the radio on, and charged us less because Del knew his mum.

Then in October the lift came back. The council stuck a notice on the doors, and the next morning I rode up in a metal box beside a man from Lewisham who did not look at me once. I didn't see Del for eleven days. On the twelfth I heard her coming up the stairwell, slow and heavy, and I stood on the landing before I could think about it, and there she was, her hand already raised.

We didn't say anything. We met palm to palm the way we always had, and the crack of it went up the stairwell like a shot. Behind us the lift doors slid open, empty and bright, and neither of us moved to get in. We kept climbing the stairs together, and neither of us took the lift back down.