Two people's shoulders in black and white, each with a small fine line outline tattoo of a hand on the upper shoulder.

Matching outline hands on two shoulders

Fine line · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

Two people are shown side by side, each with a small black outline tattoo of a hand on the upper shoulder. The linework is thin and even, with short hatched strokes shading the underside of each hand. The black and white photograph is taken in low light against a plain dark wall, and one person wears a loose white fabric over the shoulder.

Fine line Shoulder Hand Outline Matching tattoo

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The river at Haldane Reach was too wide to shout across, so the ferrywoman's two sons learned to talk with their hands. Corin stayed on the east bank with the boats. Wim went west to the salt sheds, where the carters came and went. Each morning at first light they raised a palm, fingers loose, and each evening they answered with the same sign, the hand turned out and then curled shut, which meant the day is done and I am still here.

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In the winter the river rose brown and fast, and for nine days no boat crossed. Corin stood on the landing stage with his hand up anyway. Wim watched from the sheds, his shoulder sore from hauling sacks, and he did not lift his hand. Folk in the reach said the tax men had made the sheds a separate parish and that Wim had been forbidden to cross. Others said he had simply forgotten. Corin never believed either.

On the tenth morning the mist lifted, and Wim was standing on the west landing with a lantern still burning in the daylight, holding it high where Corin could see. Corin raised his palm. Wim's hand came up slowly, shaking, and the two of them held their hands open across the water until the ferry rope burned through Corin's gloves and the salt wind dried their eyes.

They were old men when the tinker came through with his needles and ink, and they sat side by side on the bench outside the ferry house while he drew the same small hand on each of their shoulders. Their grandchildren later swore the river never rose that high again, though nobody on the reach could say why the marks on the brothers' shoulders stayed warm long after the cold had come in.