Two small black fine line tattoos: an outlined diamond on the back of a hand and a skeleton with a hanging cord on the inner forearm near the wrist.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Diamond on hand and skeleton on wrist

Fine line · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

Two hands are pressed together against a black background, each bearing a small tattoo. On the left hand, a simple outlined diamond with faceted lines sits on the back of the hand. On the right wrist, a skeleton with a hanging cord above it is drawn in thin, even black linework with no shading.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The diamond arrived at Brackmoor Junction's lost property office in a padded envelope, wrapped in a page torn from a timetable, and it had been found under seat fourteen of the 6.12 to Leeds. Iris Halloran held it up to the strip light and the stone threw a small cold star across the counter. Lost umbrellas, dog leads, one prosthetic leg in 2019. Nobody left diamonds. Nobody left anything worth the trouble of lying about.

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Tucked in the envelope was a brass locker key on a length of waxed cord, and looped through the cord was a bone-white tag with a skeleton drawn on it in fine black pen, dangling from its own noose with its hands spread as if asking a question. Iris knew that drawing. Ray Oduya had sketched the same grinning figure on every delivery docket he signed for thirty years, and in March the staff had given him a carriage clock and a wave off the platform. She turned the key over. Locker nine, left luggage, the one nobody had opened since the signal failure in October.

Locker nine held a single holdall and a folded note in Ray's square capitals: THE STONE IS FOR WHOEVER IS BRAVE ENOUGH. COLLECT AFTER THE 22:40. Iris did not believe in notes, but she was not a fool either. She sat on bench four with the diamond in her coat pocket while the platform emptied and the announcements thinned to nothing.

At 22:40 the train drew in, the doors sighed, and nobody stepped off. The last lamp above the footbridge buzzed and went out. In the dark she felt the cord swing from her fingers, the little skeleton tapping against her knuckles like a clock. She put the diamond back in its envelope and left it on the bench, and when she walked towards the gate she did not look back, because she had already seen who was coming up the steps.

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