Forearm tattoo of a downward-pointing black-outlined triangle filled with a blue and purple galaxy with stars, with small black script below near the wrist.

Galaxy triangle on a forearm

Geometric · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A large downward-pointing triangle with a solid black outline is filled with a blue and purple nebula dotted with white stars. Smooth colour shading creates the cosmic effect, and the triangle sits centrally on the outer forearm. Below it, near the wrist, there is a small black line of script and a tiny symbol, with the photo cropped against a dark sleeve.

Geometric Forearm Triangle Galaxy Nebula Star Script Symbol

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The pennant had torn again, and Ada Corran knew the wind would have it down by noon if she didn't get it stitched before the gates opened. She sat on an upturned crate behind the hook-a-duck stall with the canvas across her knees. It was an inverted triangle of dark blue sailcloth, and her father had painted the night sky onto it the winter before he died, dabbing the stars on with the end of a matchstick until his hands shook too much to hold one.

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The fair was quiet at seven. Somebody's radio played a dance tune from a van by the generators, and the first rides creaked as the mechanic tested the chains. Ada pulled the thread through, counting holes. Her father had always said the triangle pointed down because the sky was the only thing on the fairground that never came back to earth. He liked to say things like that when he was tired, and she had never decided whether he meant them.

At half past nine a boy of about nine came to the hook-a-duck with a fistful of coins and asked why the stars were in the wrong shape. Ada told him they were the right shape for a fair, which was the only shape a fair needed. He won a yellow duck with a crooked beak and carried it off under one arm, looking back twice at the pennant as if it might follow.

By dusk the needle had finished its last stitch, and Ada climbed the step-ladder to hang the triangle again. The white specks caught the first floodlights and seemed, for a moment, to drift loose from the cloth. She tied off the thread, let the wind take the hem, and went back to the stall to wait for the crowds.