Fine line tattoo of an open hand pierced by an arrow, in dark ink on the upper back of a woman seen from behind.

Hand pierced by an arrow on upper back

Fine line · Back · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows an open hand with an arrow passing through its palm, with a few small drips falling below the hand. The linework is thin and delicate, mostly outline with very little shading. The ink is a dark blue-black, and the photo is taken from behind, with the tattoo placed to the right of the shoulder blade against a grey wall with painted green leaves.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The pass had been shut nine days when Mr Ansel Cord came down the stairs with his bow case under one arm and a bad temper under the other. We were snowed in at the Gap with eleven guests, a cask of cheap red and one goat, and nobody had yet worked out who owed what to whom.

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Cord had lost a wager to the carter, Wat Hobbes, over whether a man could split a tallow candle at thirty paces. He wanted his money back or his shot, and he got the shot. He strung the bow beside the cold hearth, nocked an arrow and drew on the beam where my mother pinned her tally sticks. Wat stepped into the line to fetch his hat from the peg. I was between them with the bread knife, and I did not think. I put my hand up, the way you would to stop a door swinging in a draught.

The arrow went clean through the middle of my palm and stopped at the fletching. It did not hurt until later. Mostly it looked like a neat thing somebody had done to me on purpose, and the room went so quiet I can still hear it whenever snow leans against the shutters.

Wat cut the shaft and bound my hand in a clean apron. Cord sat on the bottom stair and wept into his cap. When the thaw opened the road he walked down the pass without his bow. I kept the arrowhead on the windowsill, and every spring, when the cold gets into the scar, I hold my hand up to the glass and watch the light come through the hole.

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