Grey and beige dreamcatcher tattoo with turquoise beads on the ribs, beside a small fine line tattoo of crossed arrows on the upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Dreamcatcher and crossed arrows on the side

Fine line · Ribs · Mixed · Photo

A large dreamcatcher with feathers and turquoise beads is tattooed along the side of the body, drawn in grey linework with soft grey and beige shading. A small, simple fine line tattoo of two crossed arrows sits nearby on the arm, with the feathered tips and shafts in dark grey ink. The photograph is close and shallow in focus, with a green sequined fabric in the lower left.

Fine line Ribs Upper arm Dreamcatcher Feather Bead Arrow Crossed arrows

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The willow hoops had dried out of true in the shed behind the Methodist hall, so Aunt Marjorie spent the Thursday before the wedding bending them back with a pair of pliers and a mug of tea going cold on the potting bench. I held the hoops steady while she wound them with waxed thread. Her hands were quicker than my eyes, and by teatime she had three of them strung, each one a little lopsided, which she said was the point.

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"A web should look like it's been caught on something," she said, knotting a turquoise bead into the lowest loop. The beads came from a biscuit tin she had bought off a stall in Ludlow forty years back and never used. The feathers were pheasant, dyed beige with cold tea because she had run out of the proper stuff. She hummed under her breath while she worked, a hymn with the words half forgotten.

The arrows were Gil's idea, though nobody remembered who had suggested it first. He and Tom had shot at the hay bales behind the barn every summer until one of them put an arrow through the back window of the Land Rover. Tom had drawn a crossed pair on the inside of his wrist in biro the week before the funeral, and the bride, who had never met him, asked for them to be kept small and placed near the door.

On the day the marquee filled with wind, and the big dreamcatcher on the top table kept swinging into the candles. Marjorie stood on a chair with a roll of tape and told me a web catches the bad things and lets the good ones slip through. I thought that sounded like a poor sort of net. Then the bride laughed at something across the tent, the tangled hoop turned gently in the draught, and nothing in it fell.