Two purple line drawings of ornate hearts, a perfume-style bottle, stars and clouds on translucent sheets, with a glowing crystal behind them.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Ornate heart and bottle line designs on stencil sheets

Fine line · Colour · Flash

Two line drawings of ornate designs are shown on translucent sheets. The left design has a heart with dotted beading, feathery leaves, stars, clouds and a smaller heart hanging from a tassel, and the right design has a heart within a bottle-like shape, a tassel, a ring and a lock of hair. The fine purple linework is combined with stippled dot borders and some shading, and the drawings are arranged side by side with dried flowers and crystals around them.

Fine line Dotwork Heart Bottle Feather Star Cloud Tassel Hair Crystal

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The stopper had been seized shut since the spring the cage stuck at the Hollin shaft, and three men in the village had told Nell Ratcliffe to throw the bottle on the slack heap. She worked the brass collar loose with a hairpin instead, one careful turn at a time, while the lamp on the sill threw its yellow light over the glass. Inside, the scent had gone to amber, and a curl of dark hair lay coiled at the bottom, tied with thread that had once been blue.

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Her grandmother had kept it on the windowsill of the back kitchen, a heart-shaped bottle with a ring of tiny beads around its neck, and never once said who had given it to her. Nell knew only that the clouds on the glass had been drawn by someone who had never seen a cloud hang over Weardale, and that the stars were pricked out in the same pin-dots as the beading. Her grandmother had called them the patient marks. Nell thought they looked more like the seams of a coal face, lit from one side.

The collar gave with a small sound like a cough. Nell lifted the stopper, and the room filled with cedar and something sweeter, like hay in a hot barn. She expected a letter folded small, or a name written on the inside of the cork. There was only the hair, and beneath it a little knot of thread tied the way her grandmother had taught her to mend nets, so the loops would hold under a tug.

She tipped the bottle over the sill and let the hair slide into her palm. Outside, the night shift was going down, and the lamps bobbed along the lane like a line of slow stars. Nell tied the knotted thread around her own wrist, pulled it tight, and went out to meet them.