Two hands pressed together showing matching small black fine line sprig tattoos on the ring fingers.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Matching small sprig tattoos on ring fingers

Fine line · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

Two hands are held together, each with a small black tattoo on the ring finger depicting a delicate sprig with leaves or a stem. The linework is thin and mostly solid black with light grey shading, and the tattoos are small and set against pale skin. The composition is close up, with a black wristwatch visible on one wrist and glittery silver nail polish on the fingertips.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nell had the cutting wrapped in wet newspaper inside her coat when the lock keeper at Hythe Bridge waved the Mab Ellery through without looking up. It was a sprig of honeysuckle no longer than a finger, taken from the rail of her grandfather's cabin roof the morning before the sale. He had grown it from a seed in a jam jar, and she had never once seen him water it.

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Her brother Tom was at the tiller, swearing softly at the gusts that came down the cut. "You'll kill it," he said. "It needs a pot." "It needs what it's always had," she said, and she meant the river, which had carried the family up and down the county for sixty years and could carry this too.

At the winding hole below the mill they tied up. Nell knelt on the towpath and pressed the cutting into the soft bank beside the willow, then sat back on her heels. Tom crouched and pushed a second sprig in beside it, a twin taken from the same stem, and for a moment their hands met in the mud and stayed there. Neither of them spoke. A moorhen went off along the reeds like a kettle coming to the boil.

Eleven years on, the willow has grown over the path and the honeysuckle has climbed up through it. The anglers who sit there think someone planted the pair on purpose. Nobody on the towpath knows which stem came first, and neither Nell nor Tom has ever said.

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