Fine line black tattoo of a cat face with whiskers and pointed ears on the inner wrist.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Minimalist cat face on a wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small tattoo of a cat's face sits on the inner wrist, drawn with thin black single-line strokes for the ears, almond-shaped eyes, nose and three whiskers on each side. The linework is simple and open, with no shading, and the ink reads as black on skin. The subject is centred on the wrist against a plain, light skin background, with a blurred garden and paving visible at the top left.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mab had counted the windfalls twice before the light went off the top rows, and she was certain the orchard was one apple short. Old Tom Pruett leaned on the gate with his pipe unlit, watching her pace the grass between the Bramleys as if the fruit owed her something.

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"It's the blackbird," he said. "Takes one a night and leaves the peel on the wall."

She did not think it was the blackbird. The blackbird was too polite. She had seen the wasps working the cut edges, and the hedgehog's dish by the water butt, and she had her own opinions about the lad from the cider barn who came whistling at dusk and went home with his pockets heavy. Her whiskers, which she kept very straight, twitched at the thought of him.

On the third evening she sat under the oldest tree, where the bark had split into little grey lips, and waited with the patience only a cat can afford. The moon came up over the hop poles. Something rustled in the nettles. It was not a blackbird, nor a lad, but a fox with a bright red apple in its jaws, and it looked at her with the same sharp surprise she felt.

Mab rose slowly and let her whiskers fan out. The fox dropped the apple. Neither of them moved for a long while. Then Mab nudged the fruit with one paw, rolled it back under the tree to the fox's side of the grass, and walked home along the wall, leaving the gate open behind her.

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