Matching small tattoos on wrists and ankles
Fine line · Forearm · Mixed · Photo
This collage shows four close-up photos of small matching tattoos. The top-left and bottom-left panels show fine black outline hearts and hash marks on wrists, while the top-right panel shows two forearms with a bold colour tattoo of two linked hands over an orange circle. The bottom-right panel shows small black lettering on two ankles, resting on a lace-patterned surface beside a mug.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The siren at Hollin Pit had gone for the day shift when Maureen and I sat on the Institute steps with our sleeves rolled up, arguing over whether the sun should be yellow or orange. Her dad said the men would have our hides for ink. Mine said nothing, because my dad was underground and the only sun he saw was the grey scrap of it through the cage gate at dawn.
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Mr Pryce ran the little parlour behind the chapel hall, with a jar of barley sugars on the counter and a hand as steady as a surveyor's. We brought him a sketch drawn on the back of a coal bill: two little fingers hooked together, the promise we'd made at eleven, the year Maureen's brother was stuck in the lower seam for nine hours and we sat on the wall outside the gate counting the minutes. The circle behind them was the sun over the spoil heap, which we'd never once seen clear of smoke.
It stung more than we let on. Maureen squeezed my hand through the whole of the orange, and I pretended not to flinch when he went over the knuckles. Afterwards we walked up Chapel Row with our forearms wrapped in cling film, and the whole street saw, and nobody said a word about it in the shop.
When the pit shut and Maureen moved south for work in a bakery, she sent a postcard with a photograph of her arm and nothing written on it but the date. I still hook my little finger out at the bus stop when the lorries go past, and the people who know me don't ask why.
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