Back of a person's neck showing a fine line tattoo of a simple figure with raised arms, placed centrally at the nape in black ink.

Line drawn figure with raised arms on the nape

Fine line · Neck · Black and grey · Photo

A fine line tattoo of a simplified figure with both arms raised overhead, forming an open outline with two small solid black shapes inside the body. The linework is thin and even, with no shading, and the figure sits centrally on the back of the neck against a pink background. The ink is black only, and the composition is minimal with plenty of skin around the design.

Fine line Neck Figure Outline Minimal

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mrs Abernethy had the top rung of the ladder before anyone else in the picking gang had their boots on the first. She had been reaching into the Bramley trees at Hollins End since before the war, she said, and she meant to keep at it until the ladder gave out under her or the trees stopped bearing.

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Her grandson Tom held the stiles steady and watched her arms go up, both of them, fingers open as though she meant to catch the sky and pull it down by one corner. The orchard smelled of windfalls browning in the long grass and wasps drunk on sugar. It was the last week of August, the light thick as honey, and the kind of heat that makes a man talk about nothing at all.

"There's one," she called down. "Bit of a blush on it. Hold the bag."

He held the bag. The apple came away with a small twist and dropped into the hessian with a sound like a knuckle on a door. She reached again, further this time, and he saw what she was after: a dark plum, hanging alone on the outermost twig, swaying just out of her fingers.

She didn't get it. She came down slowly, one rung at a time, and held out her palm with nothing in it. "Leave that one," she said. "Somebody always has to reach for the thing they can't quite get to." Tom looked up at the plum, still turning in the afternoon wind, and understood that he was not supposed to climb for it.