Close-up of a black ink tattoo of four flying silhouette figures trailing down behind a person's ear, with a stud earring in the lobe.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Flying figure silhouettes behind the ear

Other · Black and grey · Photo

The photograph shows a close-up of an ear with a row of four solid black silhouette figures in mid-flight, arranged in a diagonal trail from behind the ear down towards the neck. The figures have smooth, filled edges with no shading, and the ink is a single solid black. The composition is tightly framed on the ear and dark hair, with a small stud earring visible in the lobe.

Other Silhouette Flying figure Ear Trail

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The summer our Dennis turned nine, he decided the granary roof was a runway and the four of us were going to follow him off it. Mam had hung the washing out that morning, sheets stiff as sails in the wind off Thorpe Fen, and Dennis had already pinched two of them for capes. Our Ruth wanted to know if she'd need to bring a sandwich. I told her she was being soft, though I was the one who checked the knots in the rope we'd tied to the water pump.

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We went up the ladder one at a time, the way you go into cold water. From the roof you could see the whole marsh going gold and the church spire pointing at nothing. Dennis counted to three. He didn't count to two, or four, and he went off the edge with his arms out and his cape cracking behind him. Ruth went next, then Pip, then me, and for one long second I was certain the wind would hold us the way it held the sheets.

We didn't fly, obviously. We dropped into the nettles behind the coal bunker, all four of us in a heap, and Mam came out with the wooden spoon and a face that was trying very hard not to laugh. Pip had grazed both knees. Dennis had a split lip and wouldn't stop grinning through it.

Years later, Ruth sent me a silhouette cut by a travelling man at the county show, four dark shapes tumbling down a sheet of white card, one trailing behind the others like a kite string. The shadows had stayed up there longer than we ever did. I think about that when I stand at the sink and watch the sheets lift and fall on the line, and I wonder which of us is still in the air.