Black fine line tattoo of a chick hatching from a cracked egg, overlapped by a triangle and circle, on the inner forearm.

Hatching chick with geometric outline on forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A single-line outline of a chick breaking out of a cracked egg, with a large triangle and a circle overlapping the design behind it. The linework is thin and even, and the tattoo is in black ink only, shown in a black and white photograph. The design sits centrally on the forearm against a plain background.

Fine line Geometric Forearm Triangle Circle Hatching

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mind the windfalls, they're bruised and the wasps are drunk on them. Sit where I can see your face. Old Tobias Penhallow had forty trees in the valley and a surveyor's peg he never pulled up, and in the August the wireless first came to the village, a brown hen took it into her head to sit on the one thing in the orchard that was round and not an apple.

Keep reading

It was an egg, though nobody could say whose. Tobias fetched the set square from the shed and drew a triangle in the dust under the Bramley, then a circle inside it with a length of baler twine and a nail, because that was how his father laid out a bed of seedlings. The hen did not care for geometry. She sat through the heat and the thunder and the second week of rain, and every morning he sat on an upturned crate and listened for the shell to tick.

On the ninth morning there was a crack like a dropped cup, and out came a chick the colour of wet ash, head first, pushing at the broken lid as if the whole valley had been the wrong size. Tobias said nothing. He had the set square in one hand and the twine in the other, and he found, looking at the little thing, that the shapes he had drawn in the dust were only ever the shape of waiting.

So that's the tale, and you'll want to know whether he sold the orchard. He did not. He pulled up the peg, left the triangle to the weather, and the chick grew into a hen who would not be parted from fallen fruit. Mind your step going out. The wasps have had their fill.