Black outline tattoo of a rainbow with rays, a sun, a star, a heart and curved stripes on the inner forearm.

Rainbow, sun, star and heart on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows a rainbow with radiating tick-mark rays above a horizontal line, a small sun with rays on the right, and a five-pointed star and an outlined heart on the left. Below them, five curved lines sweep diagonally across the skin. The work is in uniform black outline with no shading or fill, and the photograph is taken straight on across the forearm.

Fine line Forearm Rainbow Sun Star Heart Ray Stripe

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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

You have climbed the north stair of Hollin Keep because the wind took the last of the roof in March and the gap in the tower now faces east. Below, the moat is a green dish with a heron standing in it. Your grandmother sent you up with a flask of cold tea and orders not to touch the loose stones, and you have touched every one.

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Somebody cut a picture into the lintel of the chapel window long before you were born: a half-circle of arches, a sun with stubby spokes, a star with one bent arm. You copy it onto the back of a bread wrapper with a stub of charcoal. The little ticks along the arches are counted, Mrs Pell says, one for every day the old lord was away at the border, though she says that about most things.

At the bottom of the lintel, cut small and deep as if by a man with only a nail, is a heart. Beneath it, five lines are scored into the step where the rain runs off, curving down toward the village. You trace them with your finger and they match the streaks that appear on the flagstones when the low sun slides through the gap. Whoever carved them was not writing to the lord. They were writing to whoever came up the stair with the light behind them.

You fold the drawing into your sock and start down. At the bottom the heron lifts off the moat, and the afternoon lies across the grass in five pale stripes. You walk through them one at a time, counting, the wrapper crackling against your ankle the whole way home.