Fine line black tattoo of two hands hooking little fingers together, placed on the left side of the ribs.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Linked pinkies on the ribs

Fine line · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows two outlined hands with their little fingers hooked together, drawn in thin single black lines with no shading. It sits on the side of the ribcage against bare skin, with a dark background behind and blue jeans at the waist. The composition is centred on the tattoo, which is small and sits clear of the waistband.

Fine line Ribs Hand Outline

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The snow had shut the Coldharbour road for nine days, and Hester had run short of patience before she ran short of firewood. Mr Pell, the carrier, sat by the kitchen range with his boots steaming, grumbling about the price of oats. She was counting candles when he hooked his little finger round hers across the table, the way children did over a bag of sweets.

Keep reading

'Thaw by Candlemas,' he said. 'I'll bring the good salt back from Keld, and you'll owe me a dance.' She told him he owed her a great deal more than a dance. He laughed, and she hooked her finger back into his, and they shook once, hard, the way you seal a bargain you have no intention of breaking.

The thaw came early in February, a soft grey week of dripping eaves. Pell did not come. Hester kept a lamp lit in the front window, trimmed the wick each night, and walked to the top of the drove every morning to look down at the road, where the sheep tracks wandered off into the mist and gave up.

In March a boy arrived with a parcel wrapped in oilcloth. Inside were a pair of bone-handled knitting needles and a note in Pell's cramped hand: 'The road is open and the salt is sold. The promise was small, and I was a coward about it. Forgive me.' That night she stood at the window with the lamp behind her, crooked her little finger, and held it up against the glass, where the reflection of her own hand met the black garden and waited there for someone to take it.