Two black tribal symbol tattoos on the inner forearms of two people, held together by a gloved hand.

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Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two forearms are pressed together, each carrying a solid black tribal-style symbol. The left mark has sweeping curved strokes with pointed tips, and the right is a smoother, curved shape. Both are rendered in black ink on skin with no other colour, and a gloved hand holds the arms in the centre of the frame against a dark background.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The water was over the second step of Sallow Lane when Ada Pell found her uncle's knife still wedged in the gatepost, and she knew then that Tom had come home the way he always did, by the old drove and not the road. Two marks were cut into the grey oak at the height of a man's elbow. The left was her father's work, a sharp, sweeping thing with points like the tines of a stag, cut the spring he married. The right was Tom's, a smooth hook that curled back on itself like the river at the bend below the mill. Their father swore the pair kept the flood off the barn. Ada had always thought it was only that two stubborn brothers had been made to share one post.

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Tom had not set foot in the village for eleven years. He had gone to the coast for work and sent letters with no return address, and the last one had come in February, folded small around a pressed sprig of sloe. Ada pulled the knife free and turned it over in her palm. Its handle was wrapped in fresh twine, and beneath the blade someone had scratched a third mark, small and neat, a loop with a tail that she did not recognise.

She stood a long while with the cold water pulling at her boots, reading that loop like a question someone had left for her to answer. Then she hung the lantern on the iron hook beside the two carvings, so its light fell across all three at once, and went to fetch the spade for the sluice.

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