Black and grey photograph of a fine line tattoo of two overlapping triangles on the inner forearm near the wrist, with a hand held loosely below.

Overlapping triangles on the inner wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small outline tattoo of two overlapping triangles sits on the inner forearm just above the wrist. The linework is thin and even, with the lines crossing inside the larger triangle and no shading or fill. The photograph is black and white against a dark background, with the forearm and clenched hand in the frame and a grey sleeve at the edge.

Fine line Geometric Forearm Triangle Geometric shape Line Hand

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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 stake was already in the ground when you reached the edge of Hollin Wood, a pale ash post with a strip of red flagging knotted at its top. Someone had left it for you. The village said the old bench mark had sunk into the bog a generation back, and the parish book said you could find it by lining up two triangles of sight: the church tower over the mill chimney, the mill chimney over the Gallows Stone, and where those lines crossed, the ground would give under your boot if you were fool enough to stand on it.

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You take the ranging pole down the lane and into the trees, counting paces the way your grandfather taught you, thirty-one to the beck, then left. The larger triangle is easy to hold in your head. The smaller one, the one that leans out over the water, takes more care. Each time the lines cross you feel the pull of the ground, soft and cold through your soles, and each time you stop, a wood pigeon lifts from the canopy as if you have said something rude.

At the crossing there is no stone. There is a beech with a square of bark cut away, and inside the square a tin box wrapped in oilcloth. Inside is a folded sheet in a hand you recognise from the vestry, a map of Hollin drawn with the church at the bottom. Beneath it, one line in ink: the bench mark was never lost, only moved, and the village has been standing on it all along.

You take a pencil from the tin, mark the beech with a single upright triangle, and walk back to the ash stake. You tie the red flagging a little lower, where the next person will see it.