Black and grey photograph of a fine line and dotwork lotus tattoo with the script words Dreaming is believing and a vertical endless knot on a person's upper back, near the shoulder blade.

Lotus and script quote on upper back

Lettering · Back · Black and grey · Photo

A black and white photograph of a person's upper back, with the head turned away and hands raised to the hair. The tattoo has the words Dreaming is believing in cursive script above a symmetrical lotus-style motif built from dotted shading and fine outlines, with a vertical endless knot hanging below it. The soft greyscale lighting and close framing keep the focus on the linework and the placement.

Lettering Dotwork Geometric Back Lotus Script Quote Mandala Flower

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The letter from the seed bank came in a brown envelope with a plastic window, and Margaret read it standing in the potting shed because her knees would not let her sit on the upturned crate. Three lotus seeds, it said, taken from a peat layer in a drained lake in north-east China, dated by the carbon in their husks to somewhere near the year nine hundred. Her grandson Tomasz had asked for them by name in a birthday card. He was nine and entirely certain.

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He came down the garden at four with his laces undone and a jam jar already half full of rainwater from the butt. Scratch the hard coat with the emery board, she told him, the way her father had shown her with morning glory. Not too deep. He scratched. The seeds sat in the jar like three small brown pebbles, and he wanted to know how long before they woke.

Nobody knew, she said, which he did not like. She had kept the pond going for forty years by refusing to know things in advance. Each August the leaves came up through the green water like open hands, then folded flat by September, and every year she told the parish council the lilies were a nuisance and every year she cut the first bloom for the church flowers anyway.

Three weeks later a pale shoot pushed up through the water in the jar, curled like a knot of string, and Tomasz ran the length of the garden shouting her name as if she might have missed it. She did not tell him she had cried. She only said keep the water clean, and went to find a bigger pot.