Fine line black tattoos of a slender sprig on the side of the torso, a small star on the upper arm and the words GIRL POWER on the inner forearm.

Fine line sprig, star and GIRL POWER lettering

Fine line · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A woman in a cropped top and dark skirt shows three small black tattoos. A thin vertical sprig with tiny side shoots runs along the side of her torso, a small asterisk-like star sits on her upper arm, and the words GIRL POWER are written in capital block lettering on her inner forearm. The linework is delicate and even, with no shading, and the crisp black ink stands out against the pale skin.

Fine line Lettering Botanical Ribs Upper arm Forearm Sprig Stem Leaves Star Asterisk Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rosemary by the well had been cut to the root before anyone was up, and Ada Lark was the only one awake to hear the shears. Her mother found the bare earth at first light and said nothing for a long while, which was worse than shouting.

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By the time the fiddler reached the lych gate, the whole of Hollow Fen knew there would be no sprig for the bride to carry. Old Mrs Pell said it was an omen and not a good one. Ada's uncle said the girl had gone soft in the head over the miller's boy. Ada said nothing. She walked up the path with a single stem of rosemary tucked inside her collar, where the wind could not get at it.

The parson asked her to give her name and her answer. She gave her name, Adelaide Lark, which was her own, and she said the words. But when he asked who gave this woman, she turned to the open door and said, "Nobody gives me. I walk." The fiddler stopped. Her mother's hand went to her mouth. Mrs Pell only nodded, slowly, as if she had been waiting for that answer since the girl was born.

Ada stepped out past the yew and into the lane. The sun had dropped behind the dykes, and the first star was out low over the water, the one her grandmother had called the lamp for girls who would not be carried. Ada followed it down the road towards the mill. At the gate she pressed the rosemary into the mud, stem first, and left it there for whoever came after.