Black and grey fine line tattoo of a heart-shaped dreamcatcher with two feathers and small birds, with script lettering above, on the forearm.

Heart dreamcatcher with feathers on forearm

Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A heart-shaped dreamcatcher with a woven web pattern hangs from its base with two dark feathers, and a small cluster of birds flies out beside them. Script lettering runs across the top edge of the heart, and only parts of the words are clearly legible. The piece is done in black ink with grey shading on the feathers and web, set against bare skin on the lower arm.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The guard at the bridge wanted to know what was woven into the basket, and Mira told him it was nothing a man could eat or sell. It was a web of willow the size of a dinner plate, shaped like a heart because her grandmother had said a heart was the only shape that would catch the right dreams. He turned it over twice, found no weapon in it, and waved her on with the basket still on her hip.

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On the far side the road ran between two hills that had been one country before the surveyors came. Mira sold three of the webs in her first week, each one with a pair of black feathers hanging from its point, feathers she had gathered from the crows that roosted above the mill. The words along the top edge said in your dreams we are free, though the lettering had worn so the buyers argued over the last word. They asked why there were two feathers. She said one was for the night and one was for the morning, which was not true, but people liked a rule better than an explanation.

In the autumn a letter came from her brother, who had stayed on the other side with the sheep. It said only that the river was high and the new fence ran straight through the old well. She read it twice at the table, then took down the last web and tied on fresh feathers, and that night she walked to the bridge with the basket under her arm.

At the crossing the guard did not look up from his ledger. Above the water a small flock of starlings lifted off the wire and streamed west, dark and quick, over a line no one had ever been able to see. Mira watched them until they were specks, then went on down the slope to find her brother, the web swinging gently at her hip and catching nothing but the wind.

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