Colour tattoo of teal and blue crystals with pink and purple heart-shaped gems on a calf, drawn in a geometric style with bold black outlines.

Crystal cluster with hearts on a calf

Geometric · Calf · Colour · Photo

A cluster of faceted crystals in teal, pale blue and gold rises above several heart-shaped gems in hot pink and purple. Bold black outlines define the shapes, and the facets are filled with flat colour and light shading. The design fills the lower leg, centred on the calf with the heart-shaped gems forming the base.

Geometric Calf Crystal Gemstone Heart

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mind the step, that's the loose one, and don't you touch the wall with your sticky hands. Right. Sit where the frost can't get at you and I'll tell you how the hill came by its jewellery. My gran's gran kept bees at the top of Harrow Lane, and every summer they went up the slope to the old quarry where the rock sweats crystal. Nobody mined it anymore. The men had gone off to the pits in Wales, and the quarry was just a hole full of rainwater and nettles.

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Her name was Nell Ashby, and she had a habit of talking to the stone. Said it listened better than the vicar. One February she took a jam jar up there with a heel of bread and her husband's pocket watch, and she asked the rock to give back what the war had taken. Four men from the village, two of them her own cousins. She didn't ask for them back. She asked the quarry to hold on to their hearts so the rest of the village could stop aching.

By the thaw the face of the quarry had grown crystal in tall spires, teal and cloudy blue, and tucked among them were little gold knots like honey set hard. And there, low down where the water pooled, were hearts. Not carved. Grown, cut clean with facets, pink as a sugar mouth and purple as a bruise going the right way. Nell picked one up and it was warm, the way bread is warm from the oven. She put it in her apron pocket and walked home without once looking back.

Here is the bit the others never believe. Every spring after, one new heart came up out of the wet ground, and every year someone from the village climbed the lane with something heavy to set down. The bees still go up there. Go on, off you go now. Take a stone if you like, but only the ones that have already fallen.