Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Fine line tattoo on the side ribs

Fine line · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A person lies back on a dark surface, wearing a fitted white ribbed bodysuit with cut-out sides. A small black tattoo of thin, diagonal linework sits on the upper side of the torso, partly cropped at the top edge of the frame, and its marks are too small and fine to read. A silver medallion hangs on a chain at the lower right, and the soft lighting keeps the skin tones warm.

Fine line Ribs Chain Medallion

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mind the sawdust and shush, the lot of you, because the wire never waits for latecomers. Autumn, the year the Corrigan Brothers' Travelling Wonder pitched on the Dunmere common, there was a girl called Ada Quill who walked the high wire forty feet above the dodgems with a silver sixpence hung from a chain at her hip. Her father had struck it from a coin his own father carried out of Liverpool. Lucky, he said. Keeps the balance honest.

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The trouble started with the rain. It came sideways off the fens three nights running, and the rope went slick as an eel. On the fourth night the ringmaster, a bald man called Gideon Vale with a voice like a cracked bell, bet the whole week's takings that she would not cross blindfold. Ada laughed and tied the cloth herself. The rain ran down the canvas in fine diagonal lines, and she counted her steps by the drip from the tent poles.

Halfway over, the sixpence swung out on its chain and caught the lamplight, and every soul under the big top saw it flash like a signal. Ada stepped on it. She did not look down. She felt the wire sing under her heel and the coin settle back against her hip, and she heard her father's voice say balance is only a promise you keep one foot at a time.

She reached the far platform at the stroke of ten. When they unwound the blindfold, Gideon Vale had already counted the takings into his own pocket, and Ada was gone, the wire still humming in the dark. Some say she is walking it yet, a thin figure above the fairground, lit by the one silver coin that never tarnished. Now then, who's got a penny for the next one?