Black linework tattoo of overlapping circles and dotted lines on a forearm, with a smaller circular design above it.

Overlapping circles tattoo on a forearm

Geometric · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two circular geometric designs in black ink sit on a forearm, with the larger one lower down and a smaller one near the elbow. The linework is fine and even, combining solid outlines, dotted lines and small dots within overlapping circles. The photograph is taken at an angle with a warm, sepia-toned finish, and the design is the only colour-bearing subject in the frame.

Geometric Forearm Circle Overlapping circles Dotted line Dot

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Tamsin had counted the rings on the fallen beech three times before the rain came, and each time there were more than the last. Her grandfather said the forest kept its own tally. Rings for years, he said, and dots for the things the trees had watched go by: foxes, floods, the long winter the mill burned. Nobody in Hollin Ash read the marks anymore. They were only old wood and bark.

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Then she found the stone under the bracken at the edge of Cold Wren Wood, a slab no taller than a child, its face cut with circles that crossed one another like dropped hoops. Dotted lines ran between them, straight and careful, as if someone had measured the distances with a length of string. A small ring sat tucked against the lower edge, one dot inside it, and Tamsin knelt in the wet and traced it with her thumb until her nail caught.

She took a rubbing home on a sheet of her mother's sewing paper and laid it on the kitchen table beside the lamp. Her grandfather studied it for a long time without speaking. Then he tapped the largest ring and told her that one was the year the lane flooded, and that the small ring by the edge was the winter she was born. He did not say which dot was which, and she did not ask him to.

The next morning the beech was gone from the path, sawn into neat rounds and stacked against the church wall, each one showing its rings to the sky. Tamsin counted them. There were as many rings as her grandfather had years, and one more, and the last ring had a single dot at its heart.