Black and grey fine line tattoo of a dreamcatcher with two feathers beside the word Dreamer in blackletter-style script on the inner wrist.

Dreamer lettering with dreamcatcher on wrist

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

The design shows a dreamcatcher with a woven web, beaded ring and two hanging feathers, placed to the left of the word Dreamer in a gothic-style script. The linework is fine and dark, with soft grey shading in the feathers and web. The tattoo sits on pale skin across the inner wrist, with the lettering running horizontally across the frame.

Lettering Forearm Dreamcatcher Feather Lettering Script Web Bead

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The Mercy Anne came up the Ouse on the last of the ebb, low in the water with slate, and Edie Fenwick sat in the wheelhouse with a hoop of willow across her knees and a ball of grey wool going round it. Her grandson Tom was seven and had not slept a whole night since the flood took the Hatfield bridge. Every night he dreamed the water came up through the floorboards and carried him off towards the sea.

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Edie wove the web the way her mother had taught her, over and under, tighter at the centre where the bad things were meant to snag. She threaded on blue glass beads she had dug out of the mud below a sunk ferry, and she tied two heron feathers at the bottom so they would turn when the boat moved. 'Dreams go through the web if they are small,' she told him. 'The big ones stop.' He did not believe her, but he hung it above his bunk anyway.

That night the barge sat against the lock at Naburn, and Tom woke to a knocking on the hull. He climbed up in his socks and found the gates grinding open, the black water sliding through, and the feathers swinging out over the edge like two pale oars. He understood then that the dream had come up through the web and the web had held it, a hard small stone caught in the middle, and that he could leave it there on the cabin floor.

He went back to bed. In the morning Edie found the feathers dry and the beads cold, and the boy eating porridge with both hands, as if nothing had ever tried to take him.