Black infinity symbol tattoo on the inner forearm with a red bow sitting inside the lower loop.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Infinity symbol with red bow on forearm

Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A black outline infinity symbol runs across the inner forearm, with a solid red bow sitting inside the lower loop. The linework is smooth and of even weight, and the black ink is slightly soft-edged. The bow is the only colour, which stands out against the pale skin and the blurred indoor background.

Forearm Infinity Bow Ribbon Symbol

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dora Pringle had sold ribbon from the same counter in Margate for forty-one years, and in all that time the spool under the till never once ran dry. Customers swore to it. The man from the council swore to it too, and he had come to measure the shop front twice. Red satin, double-faced, the colour of a pillar box in the rain. Whenever she drew a length off it, the end was still waiting for her, as if the thread had decided the story wasn't finished.

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Her nephew Lenny thought it a fairy tale until the winter he tried to cut it himself. He pulled and pulled across the shop floor until the satin reached the door, then the harbour wall, then round the lighthouse steps and back again, and still it came. He stopped only when his mother shouted up from the flat above. 'You'll tie yourself in knots,' Dora said, not looking up from her ledger. 'Nobody ties a knot in the same place twice.'

The spring her hands began to stiffen, she taught him the bow that folds back on itself, two loops chasing each other around one crossing. 'Start in the middle,' she said, 'and go round until you come back to where you began.' He tied one on the shop window, then another, until the glass was crowded with red loops. The council man came again that autumn and found he could no longer read the shop's name through them.

On the last morning, Lenny found the counter bare and the spool sitting on the sill, its end tucked neatly under a bow. He wound the satin round his own wrist, twice, and felt it still tugging gently towards the door, as though somewhere a long way off someone else needed a length of it cut.