Small solid black geometric tattoo of arrowheads and vertical bars across the inner wrist, in a black and white photograph.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Playback symbols on a wrist

Geometric · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small black tattoo runs across the inner wrist, made of a row of arrowheads and vertical bars that resemble media playback symbols. The linework is solid and simple, with no visible shading, against a dark background. The photograph is greyscale, with the marks sitting across the centre of the wrist.

Geometric Forearm Arrow Bar

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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 reel had been wound backwards so many times that the tape smelled of vinegar and dust. Mr Okafor, who ran the booth at the Regent for thirty-one years before the lights went out for good, used to say you could not hurry a rewind, only accept it. So Dilys sat on an upturned crate with her thumbs on the spindle and let the film hiss back through her fingers, frame by frame, towards the splice she had been told not to touch.

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The note taped to the can was in his square capitals: MISSING FRAME, AFTER THE PIER SHOT. Nobody had ever said whose pier, or whose hand had been waving from the rail. The Regent had shown the film every August for a decade, a short reel of sea and bunting that the council had paid to have copied, and nobody in town could remember a wave in it. Dilys had watched it twice that week with the house lamps off and the bulb ticking hot above her, and both times the cut came too early.

She found the gap at half past nine, when the tea had gone cold and the gate of the projector was still warm from the last run. A single clear frame lay stuck to the film where a splice had been lifted and rejoined by someone in a hurry. She held it to the lamp. A woman in a yellow coat stood at the railing, one arm raised, and beyond her the water was flat and bright as a coin.

She threaded the reel again and let it run. The projector clattered into the old rhythm, and when the pier came up on the screen the woman lifted her arm and kept it there, as if she had been waiting all this time for someone to be watching.