Fine line tattoo of a black outlined heart with a yellow and white plumeria flower on the inner forearm.

Heart and plumeria on the inner forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A black linework heart with a curled tail sits on the forearm, with a plumeria flower overlapping its right side. The flower has white petals with soft yellow shading and dark outlines, while the heart is a single thin black line. The image is taken straight on, with the tattoo centred on the skin and a tiled floor and pair of sneakers blurred in the background.

Fine line Botanical Forearm Heart Plumeria Flower

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The last train has gone, so you sit on the bench at Wrenfield Junction with the board flickering CANCELLED in orange letters. The waiting room smells of wet wool and burnt coffee. Beside you someone has left a carrier bag from the corner shop, and inside it, under a receipt for milk and batteries, lies a single plumeria. Five cream petals have gone soft at the edges, and the centre is the colour of butter left out on a windowsill.

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You turn it over in your palm. A luggage tag is tied to the stem with green string, and across it, in capitals pressed so hard the biro has torn the card, someone has written FOR WHOEVER NEEDS IT. Nothing more. Your aunt Ruth brought a lei like this home from Honolulu in a tin with a broken hinge, and for years it stayed in the back of her wardrobe, still faintly sweet, long after anyone thought to throw it away. You have not thought about that tin in a decade.

Dessie comes through the far doors with a mop bucket and a torch he doesn't need. He tells you the buses are waiting on the forecourt and that lost property never claims anything worth having. You ask him whether he remembers who left the bag. He shrugs, says the place is full of people leaving things, and goes back to his mopping.

Outside, the rain has thinned to a mist that hangs under the streetlamps. You fog the inside of the bus window with your breath and draw a heart with one unbroken line, the tail curling down past the glass as the engine coughs into life. Then you tuck the flower into the string of the tag, close your fingers around it, and let the bus carry you out into the dark.