Black and grey fine line dreamcatcher tattoo with three feathers on the left side of a ribcage, below a black lace bra.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Dreamcatcher on the ribs

Fine line · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A black and grey dreamcatcher tattoo sits on the side of the ribcage, with a circular hoop, a radiating web pattern and three feathers hanging from the base. The linework is fine and the feathers have soft grey shading for depth. The photo is taken from a close, angled view, with the subject's face out of frame and a plain blue wall behind.

Fine line Ribs Dreamcatcher Feather Hoop

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The hall smelled of floor polish and spilt prosecco when I found the thing behind the piano. Gran Tilly's hoop, willow gone the colour of weak tea, strung with a web of waxed thread so fine it looked like someone had breathed on it. Three feathers hung from its base, grey at the tips where the dye had faded. Aunt Maureen said it had been in the bride's coat pocket since March, and that it was not, under any circumstances, to be hung over the bar.

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I was supposed to be stacking chairs. Instead I sat on the piano stool and turned it in the light from the fire door. Someone had shaded the feathers with a pencil, the way you'd shade a moth wing, so they looked heavier than they were. The web had a hole near the top where a knot had given way. I had a sewing kit in my jacket because I always carry one, which is the sort of habit Maureen says makes me a useless man and a handy one.

I mended it on the stool with the lights half down. Four stitches, then a fifth to be sure. When the bride came in for her shoes, barefoot and cross about the cake, she took it from me without a word and held it up against the window. Outside, the rain was thick and steady. She counted the rings of the web with one finger, the way children count stairs.

"Hang it on the fire door," she said. "Let the wrong weather get caught on the way out." So I did, on a nail above the bar mat, and when we all left at midnight the rain dripped off the feathers onto the step, and I swear it sounded like someone keeping count.