Small black fine line tattoo of an arrow-like shape above an open diamond, on the inner wrist and forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Fine line symbol on the inner wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small tattoo of an upward, arrow-like shape with angled strokes sits above an open diamond outline on the inside of a wrist. The linework is thin and uniform in black ink, with no shading. The tattoo is centred on a plain pale skin area against a dark background.

Fine line Forearm Symbol Diamond Arrow

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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 mason's mark comes before the lime or the lintel. Your uncle Alf cuts it into every stone he dresses in Mallerby, a short upright stroke with barbs angled back like the fletching on a shaft, and beneath it the open diamond that means the stone is hollow at the heart and will not be trusted to bear weight. You learn the marks the summer you turn fifteen, sitting on an upturned bucket in the yard while the wireless in the kitchen murmurs the cricket from Headingley.

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In October the Hardcastle wall comes down in the night. Nobody hears it fall. What you see in the morning is a gap in the field wall wide enough for three ewes to walk through, and in the beck below, a split block with your mark on its face, the arrow still pointing true and the diamond cracked clean through. Alf reads it the way he reads weather. He says nothing at breakfast. He takes his cap off, turns it once in his hands, puts it back on, and sets the chisel down beside your plate.

"Mark the new one," he says, "and mark it honest." So you spend three days on the bank with the dressing hammer, working a fresh block until the face is flat enough to show the sky. The diamond you leave open, as always, but this time you cut a drain channel from its lower point down the stone, so the rain has somewhere to go instead of standing and softening what it holds.

When the inspector from Settle comes up the lane, he runs his thumb along the channel and nods without speaking. Alf watches him go, then looks at you and says the thing you will remember longest: a mark is a promise about what the stone will do when nobody is looking. You cut the arrow pointing up the fell, the way the sheep go when the snow comes, and walk home with lime under your nails.