Black and grey fine line tattoos of three pine trees and a mountain range on an ankle, shown in two photographs.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Pine trees and mountain peaks on the ankle

Fine line · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

The image is a two-panel photograph of a foot and ankle. The top panel shows three slender pine trees of varying heights in fine black linework with light shading. The lower panel shows a jagged mountain range with soft shaded ridges on the side of the ankle, set against a dark background.

Fine line Ankle Pine tree Tree Mountain Mountain range Landscape

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit yourself down by the radiator, Danny, and mind the cable on the carpet, because I am not getting up once I am settled. Fourteenth floor of Kestrel House, the year the lifts broke for three weeks and nobody could be bothered to walk down. I had the view to myself. You can still see it, look, past the bins and the ring road. Three trees on the slope above the allotments, thin as pencil lines, standing close together like they were waiting for a bus.

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Those trees were nearly felled, you know. A man came round with a clipboard and a tape measure and said the slope was unstable and the council wanted it levelled for flats. Mrs Okafor from the fourth floor went up there with a flask and a folding chair and sat in front of the digger for two days. Her husband had never planted anything in his life except arguments, but he once told her a pine is only a mountain that has decided to stand up straight. She did not know what he meant. She sat there until the man gave up and drove away.

Years later the same surveyor came back with a photograph on his phone of peaks in a country he had visited, and asked whether our slope had ever looked like that. Mrs Okafor said only on a clear morning in March, when the rain had washed the smog out of the sky and the estate roofs went jagged and white against the blue. He did not believe her, so she took him up to the landing, opened the window, and let him look.

The trees are still there, Danny, and so are the hills behind them, and the council never got its flats. When you see real mountains one day, you will think of this window and how a thing can be small and still hold up a whole sky. Now give me my tea. It has gone cold, and I have told you enough for one night.