Black and white photo of two matching fine line infinity symbol tattoos with a crossing stroke, one on a forearm and one on a wrist.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Matching infinity symbol tattoos on wrists

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two matching tattoos of an infinity symbol with a single straight stroke crossing it sit on a forearm and a wrist. The linework is thin and mostly solid black with soft, slightly feathered edges. The photograph is monochrome with bright daylight and a silver chain bracelet across the wrist.

Fine line Forearm Infinity symbol Line Matching tattoo

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The cable came up off the Lizard grey as a drowned eel, and Tom Pascoe had the splice bench rigged before the grapnel cleared the rail. Nineteen miles of it had gone dead in a night, and the company wanted it singing again by the Thursday packet.

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His sister Nell had come out on the tender that morning, which nobody had asked for. She stood at the bench in oilskins two sizes too big and held the strands apart while he wound the copper. Every eight turns he checked the meter, and every eight turns the needle sat dead as a church clock. 'You're chasing it,' she said. 'Go back to the last good stretch.'

They worked the loop out together, the way they had worked everything since their father's boat went down off Mullion. A splice is only ever two ends, he said, and a fault is the place where they refuse to meet. She drew a line across the loop in chalk on the tarred deck, straight through the middle, and he laughed, because it was exactly what their father used to do on the slate in the kitchen.

At dusk the needle swung and held. Nell pressed the key, sent Thursday's name down eighteen miles of sea, and heard it come back clean from France. On the tender's rail she pricked the same figure into the inside of her wrist with a sail needle and a pot of soot, and when he asked why, she said only that the line had to go somewhere.