Woman in a grey crop top and denim shorts, showing a small black fine line tattoo of a triangle with an eye and script on her upper arm.

Fine line triangle and eye on upper arm

Fine line · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A close crop of a woman's torso, arm and denim shorts, with her face out of frame. The small tattoo on the upper arm shows a black outlined triangle containing an eye, with a line of script beneath it. The linework is thin and single-tone, and the plain pale background keeps the focus on the ink.

Fine line Geometric Upper arm Triangle Eye Script Outline

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The benchmark on Carrick Rise had been cut by somebody who meant it to outlast the sea, and the sea had mostly obliged. Three metres of tide now lay over the old A-road, so I took my sightings from the gull-white roof of the Co-op and sent my numbers up to the Authority by lamp, the way Aunt Ilse taught me before the relays failed.

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The mark was a triangle the size of a dinner plate, cut into the granite plinth, with a single eye at its apex that someone had scratched in with a masonry chisel and then gone over twice. Beneath it ran a line of script: TRUE TO THE FIRST LEVEL. Nobody alive knew who had written it. Ilse said it was a drunk surveyor's joke from before the Drowning. I said it was a promise, and we argued about it most evenings over the stove, the way people argue about things that cannot be checked.

On the nineteenth day the eye caught the sun. It was a tiny flash off the inlaid brass, which I had assumed was corroded out of existence, and it lit the water line exactly where the old survey said it should be. I measured three times. The sea had risen two centimetres since spring, no more, which meant the plinth had stopped sinking and the tide had stopped winning, at least for now.

I sent the figure up with the lamp. The reply came back in four short flashes: CONFIRMED. Then, after a long pause, a fifth: WHO CUT IT? I signalled back THE FIRST LEVEL, packed my kit, and rowed home across the flooded road, leaving the eye to keep watch over the water for me.