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Matching yin yang tattoos on ribs
Ribs · Black and grey · Photo
Two bare torsos are shown side by side, each with a yin yang symbol on the ribs. The left tattoo is a solid black filled design with a small negative dot, while the right is a simple outlined version with a single dot. The skin tones are warm and the image is lit evenly against a plain background, with the figures cropped below the chest.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
At ten past four the ward goes quiet in the way that means either someone is dying or someone has finally fallen asleep, and after three years on nights you have stopped guessing which. Bed nine's monitor chirps twice and settles. Across the station Mags is humming something off-key while she counts controlled drugs, her pen tapping the sheet in time, and you stand very still and listen to her the way you would listen to a kettle before it boils.
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You both had the same mark done the summer before training, in a back room above a chip shop in Scarborough, the tattooist's radio murmuring the shipping forecast. Mags chose the solid one, all black and certain. You took the outline, because somebody had to be the one who draws the lines and then decides what stays inside them. Mags laughed so hard the needle skipped, swore at you for a full minute, and you have been partly forgiven ever since.
At twenty to five the buzzer goes for bed fourteen, where an old man is asking for his wife. According to his notes she died in 1991, and according to him she is just late. You sit on the edge of the chair and tell him she's gone for a cup of tea, a lie that feels like the kindest thing you own. Mags appears at your elbow with two plastic cups and sits down beside you without a word, so the two of you hold his hand between you until his breathing slows.
Later, when the sky over the car park has turned the colour of dishwater, she pushes a cup into your hand and says, 'Your dot's still off-centre.' You tell her it's supposed to be. The sun comes up, the day shift arrives with its noise and its wet coats, and neither of you moves to stand just yet.
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