Colour dreamcatcher tattoo with a braided gold rim, black feathers and red and blue beads on the side of the ribs.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Dreamcatcher tattoo on the ribs

Ribs · Mixed · Photo

A dreamcatcher with a braided gold and brown rim encloses a black linework web of radiating petals. Three dangling feathers in grey and black, with touches of colour, hang from the base, each with a red or blue bead. The tattoo sits on the side of the torso against bare skin, with dark clothing visible at the top edge of the frame.

Ribs Dreamcatcher Feather Bead

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

At ten past eleven the warehouse on Sculcoates Lane still smelled of glue and cold tar, and Nell had the hoop clamped to the bench for the third time that week. It was hazel, steamed and bent into a ring the width of a dinner plate. Dougie Parr had gone home to his tea and left a note under the lamp: Don't let the rim go slack. Mrs Achterberg collects Saturday.

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She wound the cord the way he had shown her, over and under, the braid doubling back on itself until the rim looked like rope that had decided to become a circle. Then the web. Forty spokes of waxed thread ran from the edge to a single knot at the heart, each one pulled tight enough to hum when she plucked it. Outside, a bus sighed at the stop, and the streetlamp through the high window laid a bar of orange across the bench.

The feathers came last, three of them, grey where the light caught them and nearly black at the quills. Mrs Achterberg had brought them in a shoebox that morning, saved from a gull's wing her husband had found on the mudflats the summer before the trawler went down off Grimsby. She had asked for a red bead on the left and a blue one on the right, and nothing on the middle, because the middle one was for him.

Nell tied the last feather and held the finished thing up to the lamp. The web had a hole at its centre, a small clean gap where the spokes didn't quite meet. She had thought it was a mistake until Dougie told her it was the whole point, so that the things worth keeping could slip through and the rest would stay in the net. She hung it in the front window facing the road. When the next bus pulled away, the blue bead swung out and caught its lights for a second, then let them go.