Black linework tattoo of a circular botanical design with swirls, leaves and a bud, on the upper back near the neck.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Ornamental botanical circle on upper back

Botanical · Back · Black and grey · Photo

A circular design divided into two flowing halves filled with curling scrolls, leaf shapes and a rose-like bud at the lower edge. The outline and interior details are drawn in solid black lines of even weight, with small dotted accents along the swirls. The tattoo is shown in black ink on pale skin, centred on the upper back below the nape of the neck.

Botanical Back Circle Swirl Scroll Leaf Bud Rose Ornament Floral

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Before the bells rang at Hollin Cross, the bakehouse lamp was the only light on the hill, and Agnes Tully was already shaping the year's first loaf. She rolled the dough thin as lead sheeting and cut it round with the lid of an old copper pan. Her mother had done the same, and her mother's mother, and each had scored the same curling tendrils into the crust, leaves like the ones that grew up the chapel wall.

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The custom was simple. You made the loaf in two halves, one for the day and one for the night, and folded them so the swirls ran into each other without a break. Nobody asked why. Agnes supposed it was because the village had always been two villages, the upper hill and the mill side, and bread was the only thing both would eat. When Tobias Rane came down the lane with his cart of sacks, he stopped in the doorway and said nothing. He only watched her hands.

He had been gone three winters to the coast, and the village had stopped expecting him. Agnes pressed a small bud into the lower edge of the loaf, the rose she had always left out because her mother said roses wasted flour. Tobias leaned on the frame of the door. "You've put a rose on it," he said. "It's dear, that is." "It's only dough," Agnes said, and slid the peel into the oven.

At first light they broke the loaf between them on the flour-dusted table. The rose came away whole in his palm, warm, a little darker at the petals where the heat had caught it.