Close crop of a person's side showing a small black fine line mountain range tattoo on the ribs, with a single dot below it.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Fine line mountain tattoo on the ribs

Fine line · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

The photograph shows the side of a torso, with a crop top raised above the ribs and dark trousers below. A small black fine line tattoo of a jagged mountain range sits on the ribs, with a tiny dot beneath it. The linework is thin and even, with no shading, and the image has a warm, slightly soft focus against a domestic background.

Fine line Ribs Mountain Mountain range Dot Line art

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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 hall still smelt of floor polish and warm squash, and the name badges had been printed in a font that made everyone look like a cough medicine. I found Gareth Ostler by the urn, holding a paper plate of Bourbons as though he expected to be tested on them. We had both sat in Room 14, third row from the window, for Mr Pardoe's geography lessons, and neither of us had ever been any good at the exam.

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Pardoe drew the Pennines across the top of the board every Monday in chalk. He never lifted the chalk from the board. The line went up, dropped, climbed again, and ended at the far edge in a neat little point. Then, at the bottom corner, he would make a single dot with the side of his thumb and say, "That's where you are." Nobody ever asked him where the dot was supposed to be, and he never explained, which is probably why I still think about it.

Gareth asked if I still drew. I said I made contour maps for a survey firm in Leeds, and I realised as I said it that every sketch I started still began with a ridge line, drawn in one unbroken stroke. Across the room, Pardoe was sitting alone by the stage in a brown cardigan, one hand on a walking stick. When he saw us looking, he beckoned, and we went over like boys summoned to the front.

He asked for a biro and a napkin, then drew the range in a single line without lifting the pen. At the bottom he put a dot. "Well?" he said. "Where are you now, then?" I looked at the dot, then at the hall full of people I had once shared a classroom with, and said the first honest thing I had said all evening. "Here, sir."