Two black antler tattoos in a fine line style, one on each inner forearm, with the wearer's hands held out in front of red trainers on a cobbled street.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Matching antler tattoos on both forearms

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two matching antler designs sit on the inner forearms, one on each arm, drawn in black ink with fine hatched lines along the tines and shading to suggest the bone's texture. The ink is solid black with no colour, and the antlers curve up toward the elbows. The hands are held forward against a grey cobbled street, with red trainers and a dark skirt visible behind.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Nell,

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The fox has been at the bins again, and the greenhouse glass is still lying in the path where the wind left it, but I wanted to tell you about the antlers before Mum hears it from Mrs Pargeter. Tom found them under the old damson on Tuesday, two shed sets from the top field. Not a true pair, one is a left and one a right, but they had the same fork at the tip, as if someone had measured one against the other. He carried them up to the shed, laid them on the potting bench beside the seed trays and said, there, now they match.

I told him deer don't grow their antlers to match. They grow whatever the year allows. He said that was rubbish, because the stag that lives by the stile has one crooked tine and one straight, and he's seen him keep them both through the whole winter without a fuss. I had no answer to that, so I went and got the drill and the brass screws.

We hung them on the back wall where the sweet peas climb, one either side of the gate, a hand's width above the lintel. In the low sun they throw long shadows across the beans, and when the frost came down on Thursday they stayed dark while everything else went white. Tom says they look like they're holding the gate open for something. I say they look like they're waiting to be asked to leave.

Bring the good secateurs when you come at Easter. I've left the gap between the two of them free for the clematis, though I suspect it will climb wherever it likes, the way things do when nobody has given them a straight line to follow.

Love, Margaret

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