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Matching arrow tattoos on two fingers
Fine line · Hand · Black and grey · Photo
Two hands are held palm to palm, each with a small arrow tattoo on one finger. The arrows have thin shafts, feathered fletching and solid arrowheads, drawn in black ink. The fine, clean linework sits against pale skin, with a soft wooden floor in the background.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Ada lit the bread oven in the back of the Tanner's Lane bakery every morning before the church bell, and every morning her brother Tam came down the stair with his hands in his armpits and asked her how she knew the dough was ready. She told him the same thing each time: you listen to it. He never believed her, and he never stopped asking.
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The summer they turned fifteen, the carrier's cart was due to take Tam to the coast, where a ship's cook needed a boy. The night before he left, they sat by the oven with a baker's needle heated in the coals and a pinch of soot from the flue. Ada pricked a thin arrow onto the first finger of his right hand, feathers and all, and he did the same to hers. Their grandmother had said that a mark made by two people who loved each other would point the way the other had gone, and that a fool could not argue with a needle.
Tam's ink faded to grey over the winters, but Ada's stayed sharp. Each dawn, when she slid the first loaves onto the racks, she lifted her hand to the lamp and saw the arrowhead tipped towards the road out of the village. She baked for the stall in the market and for the widow on the corner, and she did not once look up when the cart went by without him.
The spring he came back, the cart was late and the sky was already pale. He came through the yard door with his palm open and his finger raised, and she set down the peel and held her hand against his. The two arrows lay side by side, pointing at the same bolt of light coming over the wall. Neither of them spoke. The bread was ready, and she had heard it.
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