Fine line black tattoo of an outlined heart joined to a heartbeat trace, with the date 9·17·12 along the line, on the forearm near the wrist.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Heart and heartbeat line with date on wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows an open outline heart on the left, linked by a single heartbeat trace that runs across the skin to the right. The text 9·17·12 sits above an underline that continues the trace. The linework is thin and even, with no shading, and the ink is black or dark grey on lightly coloured skin.

Fine line Forearm Heart Heartbeat Ecg line Date Number

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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

Dev Okafor had been on the lift at Caxton House since seven, coaxing the motor back to life with a torch in his teeth, and by the time the doors finally shuddered shut on the fourteenth floor his hands smelled of grease and something sharper. In his jacket pocket sat a curl of thermal paper he had lifted from a skip outside the old clinic on Mercer Road. Someone had written a date across the top in biro, and beneath it ran a single line of peaks and drops, neat as stitching.

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Mrs Pell on fourteen had kept every scrap of paper the block ever produced, so he knocked, and she let him in with her reading glasses pushed into her hair. She flattened the roll across the kitchen table and weighted the ends with a teapot and a tin of shortbread. Her finger followed the trace from left to right, stopping at a tall spike that stood apart from the rest. "Nine seventeen twelve," she said. "That's the night the power went off across the whole estate. Mr Adeyemi played his accordion on the stairwell until the lights came back, and we all stood about in the dark listening." She tapped the quiet stretch beside it. "Look how level it goes after. Everybody settled."

Dev asked whether she wanted it back. She shook her head and told him to pin it up in the lift lobby, where the paper would catch the light from the stairwell window. So he did, that evening, using two drawing pins and a strip of tape. When the lift doors opened again at ten past nine, the cabin lamp was flickering in a slow, uneven rhythm, and he stood there a moment listening to it before he pressed fourteen.