Four small colour flower tattoos in a vertical line on the back of a wrist and hand, in fine line botanical style.

Four small flower tattoos on the wrist

Fine line · Hand · Colour · Photo

Four small flower tattoos sit in a vertical line on the back of a wrist, shown in a side-by-side pair of photographs. Each flower has fine outlines and a simple radial pattern, with the petals filled in soft blue, pink, orange and lilac. The background is a blurred floral fabric, and the image has a clean, even light.

Fine line Botanical Hand Flower Floral

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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

Pass me the chipped pot, Ivy, the one with the crack, it pours straighter than the new one and I've never had the heart to chuck it. No, you can't have the biscuits yet. Sit still and listen to the tins.

Keep reading

On the dresser at Seaview Lodge there were four enamel tins, each no bigger than a child's fist, their lids painted with a little flower in a ring of petals. Blue, then pink, then orange, then a lilac so pale you'd think it had been washed out of the sky. Mr Tallis's sister brought them back from Ostend the summer before the war, and she swore they'd keep sweets fresh for a hundred years. They never held a single sweet. They held pressed flowers, one from every guest who stayed a week and left a little lighter for it.

Nell Harrow came in the autumn of 1947 with a suitcase tied up with string and a cough she wouldn't discuss. She stayed nine weeks. On the last morning she took the lilac tin down, opened it, and found nothing inside but a dried sea pink, brown at the edges. She laughed so hard she had to sit on the stairs. Then she pressed a fresh one from the cliff path, put it in, and wrote her name on the underside of the lid in pencil, the way you'd sign a letter you hoped someone would find.

Mrs Tallis told me nobody ever found it. The tins stayed on the dresser, and the lilac one never quite closed again. Go on, take the biscuit. The tide's turning and the light on the water is doing the thing it does, and if you squint you can see all four of them lined up against the glass, catching it at once.