Fine line black geometric tattoo of two overlapping triangle outlines with two small dots on the inner forearm near the wrist.

Overlapping triangles on the inner wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a pale forearm and hand, with a small black tattoo of two overlapping triangle outlines pointing left, with two dots beside them. The linework is thin and even, and the tattoo is in solid black ink with no shading. The dark clothing behind the arm keeps the focus on the tattoo.

Fine line Geometric Forearm Triangle Geometric shape Dot Outline

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Old Jessop always said the marks were older than the pit. Every man who went down Harrow Level knew them: two small triangles chalked on the timber, their points set towards the shaft, with a dot beside each one for the two lamps kept burning at the bottom. Nobody living could say who had first drawn them, and nobody liked to scrub them off.

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In the winter of the big fall, a lad called Tom Ashworth went back for the tin of tea he had left by the pony stable. When he turned for the cage the air had thickened and his lamp showed only a smudge of yellow. He sat down on the wet floor because his legs would not carry him, and he thought of his mother's kitchen and the kettle going on the range. Then, low on the wall, he saw a pale point of chalk. He got up and followed it, and the next triangle was just beyond, and the dots beside it were like steps he could count with his boots.

He came up into the cage at first light with his hands raw and his lamp out. The rescue party went down the next day and found the timbers shifted, the roadway closed behind him, and the chalk marks at every bend, fresh and clean, all pointing the way he had come. Nobody had drawn them since old Harold Crowther died in the spring. Jessop swore he had never touched the wall in his life, though he admitted he had once been drunk enough to think he had.

The marks are still there. Boys going down for their first shift touch the triangles with a chalky thumb, the way other lads touch a church door, and none of them ever asks which way the points are meant to go.