Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Four star outlines on the lower back
Fine line · Back · Black and grey · Photo
The photograph shows a cluster of four small outlined stars on the lower back or hip, with one larger star and three smaller ones arranged in a loose diagonal. The linework is thin and black, with no shading, and the skin tone is warm. Denim shorts, a pair of sunglasses in a pocket and a hand at the right edge fill the rest of the frame.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The ferry from Oban had gone without us, so Ellie and I walked the coast road to Port Ness with the tide coming in behind us and the sky going that thin pale colour it turns before rain. She carried our father's old biscuit tin under one arm, the one with the star chart glued inside the lid, and every few hundred yards she stopped, held it up against the dusk and counted under her breath.
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Four stars, she said. The big one at the top and three littler ones trailing off down the slope, as if someone had shaken them loose from a net. Dad called that cluster the Herring Net. Mum called it the Lamp Hook. Neither of them was right, but neither was wrong either, because the sky never agreed with anybody about its names.
The fog came up off the water just past the standing stone. Within a minute I couldn't see Ellie's hand on the tin, let alone the stars. She went quiet in a way I didn't like. I told her to find the big one and keep her eyes on it, and that the little ones would come back once we were out of the murk. She didn't believe me, but she followed my voice anyway, and I learned that night that a big star stays big only if you refuse to lose it.
We reached the cottage door past midnight with our shoes full of sea. Ellie lit the lamp, flattened the tin lid on the table and drew the four stars again in biro, then added a fifth dot at the bottom where the ferry should have been. "Tomorrow," she said, "we see who's waiting on the pier."
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