Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Five birds in flight on the inner wrist
Forearm · Black and grey · Photo
A row of five small solid black bird silhouettes, all set at slightly different angles, climbs diagonally along the inner wrist towards the forearm. The ink is a single black shade with clean, simple edges and no shading or colour. The photograph is taken at close range, with a person in a loose white knit sweater and dark hair partly visible, and the face is not shown.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The last of the Discovery apples had been bruising in the crates since Tuesday, and Nell Varley had stopped pretending anyone would buy them. Her father's hands were too stiff for the ladder now, so she worked the top rows herself, pulling fruit into the canvas bag and listening to the telegraph wire above the lane, where the swallows gathered every evening before they went south.
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Each evening there were fewer of them on the wire. Her father had counted them from the porch for forty years and never got the same number twice. He said they were practising. Nell thought they were arguing about who would go first.
On the Friday a buyer from Ludlow came to look at the trees, a man in a pressed shirt who walked the rows with a clipboard and called the orchard a lovely asset. Nell kept her eyes on the ladder. When his car had gone she climbed the old Bramley and sat in the fork with a windfall in her lap, and watched the wire fill up again.
Five swallows. She counted them twice. The first lifted off with a flick of its tail, and the others followed one at a time, each at its own angle, as though they had agreed on nothing except the direction. She stayed until the wire was bare and the sky over the Malverns had gone the colour of a bruised plum. Then she climbed down, left the ladder leaning in the Bramley where anyone passing could see it had been used, and went in to tell her father the swallows had gone.
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