Fine line black and purple tattoos of a straight razor, a comb and a thin looped line on three fingers of a hand with purple nail varnish.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Razor, comb and line tattoos on fingers

Fine line · Hand · Mixed · Photo

A hand is held up in a peace-sign pose with small tattoos on the index, middle and ring fingers. The index finger carries a solid black straight razor outline, the middle finger has a comb shaded in purple and black, and the ring finger has a thin black looped line that may depict a small hair tool. The linework is simple and fine, set against purple nail varnish and blurred purple hair in the background.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The third bell had gone and Nell still had two queues to tie before the mess emptied. She worked with the porthole propped open, the sea grey and restless beyond it, and her razor laid out on a folded towel where the steward could not knock it off. Her comb had lost three teeth in the Bay of Biscay, and she had filed the broken ones smooth rather than replace it, because a comb was still a comb so long as it went through hair.

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The captain was next, which meant the good chair and the good soap. He sat with his eyes shut and talked about the price of coal in Valparaíso as if she had asked. She let him talk. Men said more with their eyes closed, and more still when a blade was at their throat and they had decided not to move. She took a length of black silk from the tin and bound his grey queue the way her mother had taught her, three turns and a knot that would hold through a gale.

Afterwards a boy came to the door, one of the coal trimmers, his hair matted flat to his skull. He had been hiding in the lamp room for four days, and the purser had been prowling the decks with a lantern. Nell sat him down without asking his name. She picked the tangles out a strand at a time, combed what was left, and when she tied it back she used the last of the silk, which she had been saving for nothing in particular.

When the boy had gone, she wiped the razor, set it beside the comb, and laid the empty spool between them. Outside, a grey smudge that might have been land rose from the water, and the ship leaned toward it as if it had heard the news first.

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