Two dark mandala-style designs in black ink sit on the ankles of a pair of crossed feet, one with a sunburst pattern and one with a flower pattern.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Mandala designs on two ankles

Geometric · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

Two crossed bare feet rest on a woven striped blanket, each with a dark mandala-style design near the ankle. The left design is a sunburst with an open centre and pointed rays, while the right is a dense, symmetrical flower with dotted detail. The designs are in black or dark brown ink with fine lines and solid fills, set against warm skin tones, with silver anklets on the upper foot.

Geometric Ankle Mandala Sunburst Flower Anklet

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The pot of henna had gone cold again by the time the bus from Hexley pulled into Fennick Bay, and Ada Lund was already rolling her sleeves to the elbow. The crowd off the bus always wanted something quick and pretty before the tea rooms opened, and the paste was the only thing on the front that did not cost a shilling a minute. She began with the sunburst because it was the simplest. Start at the centre, her mother had told her, and let the lines decide where they want to go.

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Jean Harrow had come in from the Hexley road with a sister who was leaving on the Thursday boat for Halifax. The sister sat on the low stool with one foot up on the crate and said very little. Jean did the talking, about the boat, the cousins in Nova Scotia, the cold they were promised. Ada painted the flower on the sister's ankle while the kettle boiled behind the stall: a dense ring of petals, a dotted border, a centre worked in small solid fills. It took longer than the sun. Nobody hurried it.

When she was done she wrapped the ankle in a strip of muslin and told them not to wash it until morning. The ink would darken overnight, she said, and by the time it flaked away in a fortnight there would be a whole ocean between the two of them. Jean laughed and paid in coppers. Ada watched them walk down toward the pier, one bright and one quiet, and when the boat horn sounded she found she had left the lid off the henna pot. She put it on, then took it off again, and let the paste keep breathing in the sun.