Three black geometric tattoos of a solid dot and outlined circles on a hip, a thigh and a wrist, shown in a simple geometric style.

Dot and circle tattoos on hip, thigh and wrist

Geometric · Other · Black and grey · Photo

Three small black tattoos show a row of a solid dot and outlined circles of varying sizes. One set sits on the side of the torso, one on the thigh near the knee, and one on the inner wrist, and the motifs appear to be matching or related. The linework is clean and uniform with flat black fill on the dots, set against plain skin and a turquoise top with a wooden background.

Geometric Other Thigh Forearm Dot Circle Outline

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mairead had kept the crossing at Corran Sands for thirty-one years and had never once lost a walker to the tide. What she kept was a rule. Each morning she walked the causeway with a leather bag of pebbles and pressed them into the wet sand where the water would reach: a small ring for the shallow pools, a larger ring for the channel, and a black stone, dark as wet slate, for the place where the sea did not give back.

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The autumn her brother Tomas went over to fetch the ewes from the island, a squall came in off the Atlantic before noon. She set out the stones as usual, but she pressed the black one deeper than the rest and stood a while looking at it. The villagers said she talked to the stones. She did not. She spoke to the tide, plainly, the way you would speak to a stubborn dog. You may have the flats, she told it, but the rings are the road, and I will be at the end of it with a lamp.

Tomas came back after dark with the ewes bunched in front of him and the water running off his oilskin. He had lost his way twice, he said, and found it twice, and both times there had been a small ring of stones glinting ahead of him in the black, then a larger one, then one more, and always, at the edge of the drowning sand, a stone darker than the rest that told him to stop.

In the morning she walked the causeway again. The black stone was gone, swallowed in the night, but the rings were still there in a line, the small one, the large one, and the smallest at the end, pointing home. She counted them off with her thumb, the way she had counted her children, and went back up to the house to light the stove.