Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Matching heart and ladybird wrist tattoos
Fine line · Forearm · Mixed · Photo
Two wrists are shown side by side, each with a heart outline in black linework that curls open at the lower end. A small ladybird with black spots sits inside each heart, one red and one orange-red, with the linework kept clean and simple. The photograph is taken close up against a pale background, with the two tattoos mirrored across the frame.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The officer at Halden Bridge turned my passport over twice, as if the back might tell a different story from the front. Behind me a lorry idled, its driver smoking with the window down. Across the water Anka stood on the far bank with her collar up against the wind, and she lifted one hand the way we used to at the school gate, palm out, wrist turned so I could see the heart.
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Our grandmother had a rhyme for everything. Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home, she would say, flicking a beetle off the windowsill and watching it climb straight back. The summer before the papers came through, Anka and I sat on the kitchen step with a biro and drew hearts on each other's wrists, open at the bottom so the line could curl like a stalk. She put the red one on her left. I put mine on my right. "So they face each other," she said. "So they're never the same way round."
"Purpose of visit?" the officer asked again. I said my sister. He looked at the photo on my phone, then at my wrist, and for a moment I thought he might ask about the insects, which would have meant a very long afternoon. Instead he stamped the page and slid it back under the glass.
I walked the last hundred metres with my sleeve pulled down. At the barrier a ladybird was crawling along the rail, slow and certain, red as a traffic light. It stopped at the white line painted across the road, considered it for a long moment, then lifted its wings and went over the top without showing its papers to anyone.
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