Close-up of a hand with pale pink nails and small fine line black tattoos of a diamond, three stars and a bow on the fingers, beside pearl and black bead jewellery.

Fine line diamond, stars and bow on fingers

Fine line · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

A close-up of a hand with pale pink nails shows small black fine line tattoos on the fingers beside the nails. The designs include an outlined diamond, a cluster of three five-pointed stars, a bow with looped ribbons, and a small angular shape with thin lines. The background is a blurred mix of pearl and black bead necklaces against a grey backdrop.

Fine line Hand Diamond Star Bow Ribbon Finger Nail Pearl Jewellery

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The box arrived at Lowmoor station on a wet Tuesday, tied with the wrong kind of string, and it is your job to open it. Inside, under a tangle of chain, lie two strands of pearls, one black and one cream, knotted together like a bad decision. Someone has dropped a satin bow in with them, its loops still stiff from a shop window. Lost property has a rule for jewellery: photograph it, weigh it, write it in the ledger in pencil, then wait ninety days.

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You are good at waiting. Most of the clerks here are not. Mr Ferris keeps a tin of pear drops on the sill and eats them when the trains are late, which is always. He tells you the bead strands came off a woman on the 6.12 to Carlisle, who got out at the wrong stop and didn't notice until the doors had closed. He says it as if he knows her. Perhaps he does. He remembers faces the way other men remember football scores.

On the seventy-first day, a letter comes. It is written on the back of a timetable, in handwriting that loops and then stops abruptly, as if the pen was called away. It asks only whether the black pearls are still there, and whether the bow has been kept dry.

You check. They are there, the bow a little crushed but dry. You fold the letter back into its envelope, mark the ledger in ink this time, and put the kettle on for Mr Ferris, who has already unwrapped the first sweet of the afternoon.