Close-up of a small black fine line tattoo of a heart formed by a treble clef and two dots, on the inner wrist of a hand with blue painted nails.

Heart and treble clef on inner wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small tattoo of a heart outline combined with a treble clef and two dots sits on the inner wrist, shown on a hand resting on a pale cream fabric. The linework is thin and mostly solid black with soft edges, and the design has no shading or colour. The composition is tightly framed on the wrist, with the fingers and blue nail polish visible at the top right.

Fine line Forearm Heart Treble clef Music note Dot

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mairead had been up the tower since before the tide turned, and the foghorn had gone quiet at four, which meant her father would be asleep in the chair with his boots still on. She sat on the iron step with the logbook open across her knee and a pencil behind her ear, listening to the sea knock at the foot of the rock.

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The lamp had a rhythm of its own. Every eleven seconds it swept the water, and for thirty years her father had recorded it as a row of dashes in the margin, the way other men counted sheep. Mairead had never found the dashes useful. What she heard was a tune, a slow line that climbed, curled back on itself and hung there, and last winter she began drawing it on the back pages. The curl at the bottom looked like the lamp turning away. The loop at the top looked like the beam coming round to find the boats.

By March the page held a clef wrapped inside a heart, with two dots above it where the double flash came in the fog. She had meant to tear it out before the relief keeper arrived on the Thursday boat, but when he stepped onto the landing with his kitbag and his polite, nervous face, she handed him the book instead and showed him the page without a word.

He turned it toward the window, frowning at the lines, then hummed the curl under his breath, slow and unsure. The lamp came round just then and laid its white stripe across the table. "And the dots?" he asked. Mairead took the pencil from behind her ear. "The two of us," she said, "one on the stair and one in the chair, keeping time."