Black and grey hatched tattoo of an eye within feather-like lines on the wrist of a hand, shown in a black and white photo.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Hatched eye tattoo on the wrist

Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A black and white photograph of a hand and forearm with a tattoo on the wrist showing an open eye surrounded by fine parallel lines that form a feather or wing-like shape. The linework is dense and engraved in appearance, with shading built from hatching and short strokes. The plain white background keeps focus on the tattoo and the hand, which is turned palm down with a silver ring on one finger.

Forearm Eye Feather

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The jackdaws had got into the chapel roof again by the time Tobias climbed up with the lamp, and the whole gallery smelled of wet straw and old smoke. Below us the castle of Harrowgate lay open to the sky, its east wall fallen into the moat in a single afternoon during the great frost. Nobody in the village would walk past the gatehouse after dark, so the eye above the postern had been left to watch alone.

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The mason who cut it died before the mortar set, and the stone face he left behind has lines radiating from the iris like the barbs of a feather. Rain running off it made it look as if it were shivering to fly. Tobias swore it blinked. I told him the damp did that. He held a grey striped feather he had picked from the gutter against the socket and asked me to count the lines with him, the way his grandmother had taught the children to count rooks before they could read.

We counted to forty-one before the lamp guttered. Then the stone seemed, very slowly, to lean out over the ruined courtyard, as if it had waited years for the wall to fall so it could see past the fields. Tobias stopped counting. Somewhere below us a single rook lifted from the moat with a sound like a page being turned.

The village sold the gate to a salvage yard in Ludlow the following spring, eye and all. I still have the feather. Hold it to a lamp and its lines run the way the mason cut them, from the middle outward, so that every one of them starts at the same watchful point and nothing can slip past it unseen.