Black outline of a tilted triangle tattoo in a fine line style on a forearm, with a dark sleeve above it.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Outlined triangle on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A single black outline of an equilateral triangle, tilted slightly, sits on a pale forearm. The linework is thin and even, with no shading or fill inside the shape. The background shows a dark sleeve above the tattoo and a black chair with a wooden floor, with the subject set in soft, even indoor light.

Fine line Geometric Forearm Triangle Outline Geometric shape

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The third bench mark would not sit level, and Hollis said so twice before he would lift the theodolite off its tripod. We had come up the eastern shore of Carrick Sound with five weeks of salt beef and a chain that Mrs Lusk, who owned the cutter, insisted on calling the Lady. The mark was a triangle scratched into a granite shelf above the tideline, its point turned towards the water, its lines no deeper than a fingernail. The Admiralty sheets for this coast stopped at 1811. Whoever had cut it had known precisely where the sea would stop.

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We measured it that afternoon. The sides agreed to the hair, which is more than I can say for my own boots. The whole figure sat a few degrees off true, as if it had been laid out by someone who trusted the stars more than the compass, and when I checked the bearing of its point against the pole star it came out within a minute. Hollis wanted to chisel it free so the survey would be clean. I told him the Crown had paid for accuracy, not vandalism, and he went back to the cutter sulking. That night the tide came in higher than the tables promised, and I woke to the sound of water lapping somewhere it should not have been.

In the morning the lowest line of the triangle was dark with wet, and the sea had left a thin silver edge along it like a ruled line on a page. Following the bearing that point gave us, we rowed two miles north into a cove that appears on no chart I have ever held. There, above the weed, was a second triangle, older, its lines worn almost smooth.

I wrote it into the log as a reference point, which is the only honest term I have. Hollis still will not sight through the theodolite towards the north. He says the needle wanders there, and that the tide has been keeping time with something he cannot see.