Small black fine-line geometric arrow tattoo with dotwork on the inner forearm, set against a black and white drawing.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Geometric arrow tattoo on forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small arrow-like motif made of diamond shapes, crossed lines and a crescent sits diagonally across the inner forearm. The linework is thin and precise, with a scatter of fine dots beside the crescent, and the ink is solid black. The composition is tight against the arm, with a dark knitted sleeve at the edge and a black and white illustration of tentacles and swirls in the background.

Fine line Geometric Dotwork Forearm Arrow Diamond Crescent Dot

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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

The lift at Calder House had been broken since Tuesday, so Ruth counted the stairs out loud, ninety-six of them, the way her father had counted rungs on a ladder he never trusted. On the ninth landing Tomasz was waiting with a bicycle wheel balanced on his knee. He had unpicked the spokes one by one and bent them into a small arrow, two wire diamonds at its head and a crescent hooked along the shaft.

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"It doesn't point north," he said. "It points at the canal bridge. Where the moon goes down at midnight." He had pricked a scatter of holes into the cardboard beneath it, a trail of tiny stars he'd copied from a library book on navigation. Ruth had drawn plans for the council for thirty years and she could see at once that the cross lines were true, but the crescent faced the wrong way. A moon like that would be sinking, not rising.

She asked for his pliers. He handed them over without a word, and she turned the hook a quarter-inch until the curve held the water side of the arrow. The two diamonds caught the light from the stairwell window. Tomasz frowned at it the way he frowned at sums.

They went down together, Ruth counting again, Tomasz carrying the arrow in his fist like a torch. At the ground floor the swing doors sighed shut behind them, and the wind came off the water smelling of diesel and wet leaves. He lifted the wire to his eye and sighted along it. Across the car park, the canal bridge sat exactly where the arrow said it would.