Wrist with a small gold geometric chevron tattoo on the forearm, worn beside a white and gold wristwatch and stacked gold and dotted bracelets.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Gold chevron tattoo beside a wristwatch

Geometric · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A wrist and forearm wearing a white and gold wristwatch with a white strap, alongside stacked gold and dotted bracelets on the left wrist. On the right inner forearm sits a small pair of gold stacked chevron shapes, drawn with clean, simple lines and flat metallic ink. The white fabric and soft background keep the focus on the metallic tones.

Geometric Forearm Chevron Watch Bracelet Wrist Gold Dot

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The watch had been stopped at twenty past four for nine days, and Mair Gwilym was the only one in Trewen who could not bring herself to wind it. It lay on the pawn counter beside the brass scale, its white face gone the colour of milk left out overnight, the gold rim worn thin where a thumb had rubbed it. Mrs Pryce had carried it down the hill in a handkerchief the morning after the pay office shut, asked for four shillings, and Mair had given her five without a word about the pit.

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Her father had worn three gold chevrons stitched above the cuff of his good jacket, one for each year he had been made deputy and sent down first to test the roof. He never let her touch them. When the fire-damp got into number four level, the colliery sent his jacket home with the braid still on it and nothing inside. That winter Mair had taken it to old Idris at the back of the shop, and he had paid two pounds for the stripes alone. She cried all the way up the valley road because the chevrons were the only part of him anyone would buy.

The shop bell rang. Dai Pryce stood in the doorway with his cap crushed in both hands and asked, not quite looking at her, whether the watch was still there. His mother wanted to pay the grocer before the strike soup ran out, and the grocer would take gold over promises.

Mair drew the key from her apron pocket and wound the watch until the spring bit. The second hand jerked over the dial, then moved on in small, hard steps, like something climbing a shaft one ladder at a time. She set it in Dai's palm and told him the account was square. Then she took a pencil from behind her ear and drew three small arrows on the ticket, all pointing up.