Two small black fine line hash symbol tattoos on the wrists of two people holding hands, one wrist wearing a chunky chain bracelet.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Matching hash symbol tattoos on two wrists

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two small hash symbols, each made of two short vertical strokes crossed by two horizontal strokes, sit on the inner wrists of two hands held together. The linework is thin and solid black with no shading, and the ink looks crisp against the pale skin. The warm-toned photo shows a mustard knitted sleeve, a silver chain bracelet and dark nails with a gold glitter accent, with the tattoos placed near the centre of the frame.

Fine line Forearm Matching tattoo Line Wrist

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Snow had been falling six days when Nell Harker scratched the first mark into the byre door with the point of her knife. Two uprights with two bars laid across them, the way their grandmother had counted ewes through the dipping pens. The hay in the north barn would last to the thaw if nobody was greedy. Her sister Ada was not greedy, but the cattle were hungry and the lambs were coming early.

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They counted every night after that, one mark for each day the farm held. By the third week the door was more tally than wood, and the sisters had begun to quarrel over whose turn it was to fetch the lamp. Ada said the count was foolish. Nell said a count was the only thing in a snowed-in house that could be relied on.

On the twenty-second night Ada did not come in from the top field. Nell found her boot prints heading for the ridge and lost them in the blow. She sat by the stove with the knife on her knee and cut no mark. Pride or fear kept her from going out after dark, and she could never afterwards say which. At first light she went up with the lantern and found Ada in the lee of the old wall, two lambs tucked under her coat, swearing softly at the drift.

They walked down together with the hay cart stacked behind them. That night, with the stove roaring, Nell rubbed soot from the flue into a pin's scratch and inked a matching pair of marks onto the inside of her sister's wrist, then had Ada do the same for her. The byre door could go to kindling in spring. Some counts, Nell decided, were better kept close to the skin.