Close-up of a small black open-circle arrow tattoo at the back of a woman's neck, with her blonde hair gathered in one hand.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Open circle arrow tattoo on the neck

Neck · Black and grey · Photo

A small black tattoo of an open circle with an arrowhead sits at the nape of the neck, with the person's face not shown. The line is simple and even, filled with solid black ink rather than shading. The background is softly blurred, with blonde hair pulled up in one hand and a white top at the bottom edge of the frame.

Neck Circle Arrow

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The 6.14 to Carlisle was running eleven minutes late, which gave Maud Ferrier time to read the departure board three times and count the platforms twice. Platform four had a bench with someone's initials gouged into the slats, and a vending machine that hummed like it had a secret. She had come to hand back a key. That was the reason she had written on the envelope, and it was a good reason, the kind you could say aloud to a ticket inspector.

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He came down the stairs at ten past with a rucksack on one shoulder and his hair tied up in a hurry, a loose twist of it coming free at the back. He saw her and turned his head quickly, the way you do when someone calls your name in a crowd you didn't expect them to be in. She had forgotten the small dark ring he had drawn on the back of his neck the summer they worked the night shift at the depot, a circle that never quite closed, with an arrowhead pointing back the way it had come. He had said it meant you could always start again from the same spot. She had thought that was daft at the time.

The train pulled in with a long sigh of brakes. Neither of them moved toward the door. Maud held out the envelope, and he took it without looking inside, the way people take things they already know the weight of. The guard blew his whistle. Somewhere up the line a signal changed from red to green.

He got on. She stayed on the platform, and when the carriage window slid past she saw him sitting with the envelope unopened on his knee and his head bent, his fingers working at the loose strand of hair until it went back into place.