Close-up of a dark script quote reading a person's a person, no matter how small, beside a pink dandelion with a green stem, tattooed on a shoulder.

Dandelion and quote on a shoulder

Lettering · Shoulder · Mixed · Photo

The tattoo shows the words "a person's a person, no matter how small" in dark black lettering across two lines, with a pink dandelion seed head and a green stem curving down at the right. The lettering is smooth and even, while the dandelion has softer shading and colour. The photograph is taken close up, with the skin filling most of the frame and the design placed toward the right edge.

Lettering Botanical Shoulder Dandelion Flower Stem Quote Script Text

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The clerk at Sarrane Col wanted the mule entered as a cart, and Ivo wanted the village of Brenn struck from the list altogether, since nobody there had paid a toll in eleven winters. The argument had gone on since noon. Outside the window, Ivo's granddaughter Oda sat on the low wall with her boots swinging, picking dandelion heads from the cracks between the stones. Each time the wind came over the ridge it lifted a handful of them, and the seeds drifted past the glass like small lamps going out.

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"Look at it," Ivo said, and tapped the ledger with one thick finger. "A person's a person, no matter how small. You don't rub a village out because it's small." The clerk pushed his spectacles up and sighed the sigh of a man who had heard that sentence before, from better arguers and worse ones. He had a pen in his hand and a cold stove at his back, and the pass was closing by dusk.

Oda came in then, damp-cheeked from the wind, with one seed head cupped in her palm like an egg. She held it up under the clerk's nose and blew. The seeds went everywhere: over the ledger, across the inkwell, into the gap between his collar and his neck. He sneezed. Ivo laughed until he had to hold the doorframe.

When they came down the far side that evening, the clerk's pen had written Brenn in the column with a small neat tick beside it, and Oda had a fistful of seeds in her coat pocket that she would not let anyone count. Below them the valley was going blue, and somewhere down there a light came on in a house nobody had bothered to write down.