Black and grey geometric tattoo of thin horizontal and vertical lines forming bands across a forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Geometric line bands on a forearm

Geometric · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a forearm with a tattoo made of thin black horizontal and vertical lines that form rectangular bands around the arm. The linework is clean and uniform, with no shading, and the lines meet at right angles to create a grid-like pattern. The black and white photograph is taken against a dark background, which makes the lines stand out clearly.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Tom,

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The rain got under the awning again on Tuesday and soaked the whole bolt of grey wool Mr Pryce swore was mothproof. I've spent three evenings laying it out on the trestle to dry, pinning it flat with the brass rulers from his father's shop, and I keep thinking of how you used to rule the yard on my school jotter, dragging a spoon along the page for a straight edge.

Pryce wants the stall squared up before the Saturday fair. He's had me chalk a grid on the tarmac under the market clock, four bays wide, so every trader knows which pitch is theirs. I did it at six this morning with the rain drumming on my hood, and when the lines dried so exact that old Ada from the fishmonger's came over and asked who had measured them. I said nobody, I'd just eyeballed it. She laughed and said that was the trick of any good thing.

Last night the Calder brothers came to borrow the rulers and stayed for tea. Dennis laid a strip of tape along the table edge and ran his pencil down it in stripes, saying the seams would hold if the cross-threads ran true. His mother used to bind the loose ends of her shawls like that when the mill ran cold. I didn't know what to say, so I passed him the sugar and let the kettle sing.

Pryce says the chalk will be gone by Sunday, because the rain takes everything in the end. But I've pinned a square of the grey wool to the back board of the stall where the weather can't reach it. Come home at Christmas and see whether it still lies flat when the river comes up.

Your loving sister, Nell

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