Black and grey fine line tattoo of a grand piano with a treble clef above it, on the upper back below the nape of the neck.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Grand piano and treble clef on upper back

Fine line · Back · Black and grey · Photo

A black and white photograph of the back of a person's head and upper back, with dark hair in a bun. A single-line style tattoo of a grand piano sits below the neck, with a treble clef drawn above it. The thin, sketchy black linework is set centrally on the back against a plain, softly lit background.

Fine line Back Treble clef Music

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The piano had been on the ferry for two hours before anyone thought to tie it down. Marta watched it slide across the car deck each time the boat leaned into the swell, its black lid rattling, a deckhand in a yellow oilskin wedging coils of rope against its legs with his boot. She had come to Hest Island to tune it, not to carry it, and the chandler had promised a dolly that never arrived.

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By the time the ferry nosed into Corran harbour, the grand had lost two castors and a good deal of its dignity. They winched it onto the quay with a sling and a borrowed tractor, then hauled it up the cobbled brae to the schoolhouse, where the children had been told it was coming and nobody had thought about the stairs. Marta sat on the bottom step with a pencil behind her ear and studied the lid's underside, where someone long ago had pencilled a treble clef with one loose looping stroke that refused to close.

Her tuning hammer was in her coat, but first she lifted the lid and looked at the strings in the grey light from the door. The hammers were fine. The felt was tired. Dust lay across the soundboard like sea salt on a window. Mrs Ferrier, who taught the island's six children and had kept the piano under a tarpaulin since her husband's funeral, stood in the doorway with her arms folded and said nothing, which Marta had learned meant she was waiting to hear whether it could still sing.

Marta pressed middle C. The note went out through the open door, over the wet roofs and down the brae towards the water, and a gull lifting off the harbour wall tipped its wings and turned to listen. Mrs Ferrier unfolded her arms. Behind her, the smallest child began to hum the same note back, a half step flat, and nobody corrected her.