Small black shaded crescent moon tattoo on the inner wrist and lower forearm, with the hand bent upwards against a pale background.

Crescent moon on the inner wrist

Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small crescent moon is tattooed on the inner wrist, with its curved edge facing right. The shape is filled with soft black and grey shading that gives it a slightly textured, mottled look, and the edges are clean. The pale background and bent hand leave the tattoo as the clear focus of the frame.

Forearm Moon Crescent moon

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The lock-keeper at Hollin Weir had a rule about the crescent: never row the Lady Ottilie past the weir after the lamps were lit unless the moon was thin enough to cut a man's thumb. Dan Pargeter had ignored it for nine years, and the river had let him, mostly. That November night the moon hung low over the water like a paring left on a chopping board, and the tow rope snapped with a crack that sent the coal barge drifting toward the sluice gates.

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He got a boathook into the mooring ring and hauled himself hand over hand along the gunwale, the cold coming up through his sleeves. Behind him the water was black and smooth except where the moon laid a bright thin line across it. Mabel, the cat who had lived aboard longer than any of them, sat on the coal heap and watched him with her ears flat. Every time the barge yawed, the reflected crescent broke into pieces and then sewed itself back together.

By the time he had the rope knotted to the bollard, his hands were raw and his teeth were chattering. He sat down on the wet deck and looked up. The moon had risen a finger's width, and the curve of it was turned toward him, bright on one side and shadowed on the other, as if it had been holding its breath and was only now letting go. Mabel climbed into his lap, heavier than she had any right to be, and he decided the weir could wait until morning.