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Matching wrist tattoos on two held hands
Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo
Two hands are held together, with a small black linework tattoo on the wrist of each hand. Each tattoo shows a looping, heart-like shape made of thin outlines, with no visible shading. The image is monochrome and softly lit, with the hands filling the centre of the frame against a pale background.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Sit still and mind the kettle, because this is the bit where the boys nearly came up wrong. Tomos Hughes and Ieuan Vaughan were fourteen the summer they pricked their wrists at the back of the lamp-room at Gelli Fach, using a sail needle warmed on a candle and soot scraped from a dead man's lamp. They drew the loop the old cager, Dai Morgan, had scratched on the wall of the lift house, two hearts knotted into one, with no end to it anywhere. The blood beaded and the soot went in, and Ieuan swore it wouldn't wash out, and it didn't.
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That November the roof gave at the four-hundred-foot level, and the lamps went out in a long grey breath of dust. Tomos was pinned under a prop with his leg wrong, and it was Ieuan who found him by feel, crawling blind along the rail. Neither could see a thing. Ieuan took Tomos's hand and laid the wrist against his own, the two marks pressed flat together, and said the only word he had left, which was 'still'. They lay like that, counting the drips, until the rescue men came tapping along the iron with their picks.
Tomos walked out on a stick and never went back down. Ieuan went to the boats and then to the sea, and nobody in Gelli Fach expected to see him again. But every March for forty years a letter came to the post office with a single ink drawing folded inside, two wrists and a looping knot, and Tomos would read it at the kitchen table and put the kettle on. The pit wheel has been still since before I was born. The marks are still there too, faded to grey on both of them, and that, cariad, is the whole of the story.
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