Two small black and grey yin yang tattoos, one on each of two people's ankles, photographed against a dark background.

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Matching yin yang tattoos on two ankles

Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

The image shows two bare ankles and feet, each with a small yin yang symbol drawn in solid black ink with grey shading. The circles are similar in size and sit on the outer side of each ankle. The background is dark, and the photo is framed so both tattoos are clearly visible, with jeans and brown trousers at the edges of the frame.

Ankle Yin yang Ankle Symbol Pair

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Morag Pell had painted the Scarra Head light every spring for nineteen years, and every spring the wind took a little more of the white from its south face. This year her brother Alec came out on the supply boat with two tins of paint and a face that said he had argued with somebody in Ullapool. He set the tins on the gallery rail and did not look at the tower once.

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They worked in silence for two days, Morag on the bosun's chair and Alec on the brush, the black bands going on in long, careful strokes. On the third morning fog rolled in off the Minch so thick the gulls went quiet. Alec climbed down for lamp oil and did not come back up. Morag found him on the landing, turning a paint lid over in his hands. Stamped on its underside was a circle split into two swirling halves, one black, one white, the mark their father had pressed into every tin he ever opened.

'He used it to mark which tins were his,' Alec said. 'Black for the tower, white for the cottage. I never told you I was the one who knocked the north scaffold loose in March. I thought I'd finish it before you found out.' Morag took the brush from him. She said nothing about the scaffold. She dipped the brush in the black and held it out, and after a long moment he took the white.

By dusk the fog had lifted and the lamp was turning, its beam sliding over water now striped in both directions, the old paint and the new meeting at the seam like two halves of a coin. Morag stood on the gallery with her hand on the cold rail and watched her brother's silhouette move along the far side, and found she could tell which strokes were hers.