Two small fine line infinity symbol tattoos in dark ink on the fingers of two interlocked hands.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Matching infinity tattoos on fingers

Fine line · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

Two hands are interlocked, with a small infinity symbol tattooed on a finger of each hand. The linework is thin and even, in a dark ink that appears black or deep purple-grey. The background shows a car interior, with the dashboard and a radio display softly out of focus.

Fine line Hand Infinity Infinity symbol Matching tattoo

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mabel Ferrow had sold eels at the Thursday market for forty years, and she was not about to be told the river would take her stall. The rain had come in sideways since dawn, drumming on the canvas awnings, and the gutters ran brown past the fish trays. Her nephew Tobias stood beside her with a coil of tarred line over one shoulder, watching the water the way other boys watched a dog that might bite.

Keep reading

"We tie it off here," she said, "and walk it across to the Corn Hall. Your mother did it in the wet year and so did I." He asked why they needed two lines when one would do. She showed him instead. She took the free end, passed it under the standing part, round, and back through the same gap, so the rope crossed itself and made a loop shaped like a sideways eight. "Run your finger round it," she said. "Where does it start?" He traced it around and around and could not find the join.

They walked the line over the flood with the rain in their faces, Tobias ahead, his hands cold and steady on the rope. Halfway across the water pulled hard at his boots and he nearly went under, but the loop held, and the far side of the rope came to meet his grip as if someone on the bank had been pulling the other way all along.

On the Corn Hall steps Mabel undid the knot, handed him the coil and said, "Keep that. It goes round so you never need to find the beginning." He hung it on a nail by the stove that night, and the rope dripped onto the flags until morning, when the river had gone back into its bed.