Small fine line black dandelion tattoo with seeds blowing away, on the back of a hand near a dark zipped bag.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Dandelion with drifting seeds on a hand

Fine line · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

A small black dandelion sits on the side of a hand, with its seed head drawn in delicate dots and short strokes and a thin stem curving down. Several loose seeds drift off to the left, creating a sense of movement across the skin. The image is in black ink only, shown against pale skin and a dark zipped fabric in the lower right.

Fine line Botanical Hand Dandelion Seed Stem Flower

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Brother Edmund had been told to clear the dandelions from the infirmary lawn before Vespers, and he had been at it since the bell for Sext, kneeling on a folded sack with a trowel he kept forgetting to use. The clocks were everywhere, pale globes on thin green stems, and every time the wind came off the fens they let go in a little fog that settled on his habit and on the wet stones of the path.

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Old Brother Piran watched from the bench under the pear tree, shelling beans into a bowl he had no intention of cooking. "You are making a poor job of it," he said. "You are plucking the ones that have already given up."

"They're untidy."

"They are finished. That is different. The seed is only ready when it lets go." He tipped a handful of beans into the pot. "My mother used to say you could blow a clock and wish, and whatever you wished for would go where the wind carried it, and you would never be told if it landed."

Edmund sat back on his heels. The abbot's letter lay in his sleeve, unopened since morning, and he had not told anyone what it said. He drew a breath, pursed his lips and blew. The seeds lifted, scattered past the gatehouse in a loose spray, and turned over the wall toward the road to Ely, dark specks catching the low light.

He did not wish aloud. He pictured the letter folded small in his sleeve, then let it go too. When he stood, the lawn was half clear and his knees were soaked through, and Piran was already humming, not looking up.