Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Matching feather tattoos on forearms
Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo
Two forearms are shown side by side, each with a small black feather tattoo. The feathers have fine outlines with shaded detail along the quill and barbs, and the ink is solid black with no colour. The soft, blurred background in warm tones keeps the focus on the two designs.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The gull had come down on the slipway with one wing folded wrong, and Ruth was already kneeling beside it when Davey caught up, breathing through his mouth the way he did when he ran. Neither of them touched it. Their father had told them gulls carried sickness and worse, so they only looked, and in the looking Ruth saw the feathers along the primaries, grey-brown and banded like a tide-marked wall.
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They took two. Ruth pulled a long one from the wing, Davey a shorter one from the tail, and they walked back up the harbour wall without speaking, each pretending the other had chosen the better of the two. At the top, where the lamp-post leaned over the water, Davey said the feathers would carry them to Lisbon if they held them out right. Ruth said nothing. She had heard the captains talk at the Ship Inn and knew feathers did nothing except get wet.
Summer passed. The boats went out and came back with less in their nets. Davey took the Thursday ferry to the mainland and did not come back for three years, and Ruth kept her feather in a tin of boot polish under the window seat, taking it out only when the wind came round to the west.
When he finally walked up the lane with a trunk on his shoulder, there was a small dark feather inked along the inside of his forearm, clean along the quill, and he held the arm out before she could speak. Ruth set the tin on the sill and rolled up her own sleeve. Neither of them said the feathers would fly. They sat on the wall and let the wind take their hair, the pair of them as alike as the two feathers that had started it.
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