Black outline lotus flower tattoo on the forearm in a fine line botanical style, with a short column of dots above and below it.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Lotus flower on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A lotus flower is drawn in black outline, with layered petals and small inner detailing, sitting centrally on the forearm. A vertical line of dots runs above and below the flower. The tattoo uses black ink only with no shading or colour, and it is photographed against plain skin, white paper towel and a black and white checkered floor.

Fine line Botanical Forearm Lotus Flower Dot

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit yourself down, love, and mind the coal bucket. Our Ada had a pond behind the pit baths, black as a boot and stinking of the spoil heap, and nothing grew in it but midges and the odd rusted tin. Then one spring a lad off the night shift came up the lane with a paper twist in his cap, and in it were seeds the size of peppercorns, given to him by a sailor's widow in Hull who swore they'd flower in anything.

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Ada pushed them into the mud with a clothes prop. Everybody laughed. Her husband Frank said she'd get more out of a sack of gravel. But every morning she went out before the hooter and every evening after, and she counted the men going down the shaft by their lamps. One dot for each man going down, she said, and one for each man coming back up.

Then came the August the cage stuck at four hundred feet and the lamps went down and did not come up for a long night. Ada stood at the pond edge with the prop in her hand. In the grey before dawn a bud broke the black surface, pale and folded, and by dinner time it had opened wide over the water, layer upon layer, clean as a church candle. Men who had sworn at her walked past and took their caps off.

The cage came up at six with eleven lamps, and every one of them lit. Ada never stopped counting after that, and nor did anybody else. Mind your step on the path, love. Those dots are still cut on the stone by the gate, and I'd wager the flower is still out there, opening every morning in water it had no business living in.