Red spider lilies on the ankle
Fine line · Ankle · Colour · Photo
Two red spider lily flowers sit on the side of an ankle, drawn with fine, delicate linework and soft red shading in the petals. A thin black stem curves down and across the skin, with a few small dark strokes floating above the blooms. The composition is small and open, with the flowers placed toward the left and the stem trailing to the right on pale skin.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The lilies came up the week after the last leaves had dropped, bare red heads on bare green stalks, as if the garden had forgotten to finish one thing before starting another. Haruka's grandmother said that was the flower's whole sorrow: it never met its leaves. She said it while pressing a cutting into the damp earth beside the well, and Haruka, nine years old and bored, asked what happened when they did meet. Her grandmother only laughed and said that was why nobody went looking.
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Years later Haruka kept the lilies along the stone path to the shrine above the old ferry landing, which the river had abandoned when it changed its course. Every morning she swept the fallen petals into the gutter. They came loose like fine hair, curling as they fell, and the wind lifted them up the slope in loops that looked like writing someone had started and never finished. Ferrymen's widows climbed up to watch them. Haruka told them nothing, because the lilies had been planted to be looked at, not explained.
The boy who arrived in the third autumn carried a sack of bulbs and a bundle of rope he had not paid for. He asked whether the flowers would grow in the silt where his father's boat had gone under. Haruka told him they would grow wherever someone kept waiting long enough. That night he dug a row by the water, and by morning there were stalks there too, leafless and red at the tips, leaning towards a river that had never once come back to the place it left.
Haruka watched him from the top of the path with the broom across her knees. The wind took a handful of petals off the slope and carried them down past his bent back toward the water, curling as they went, and for a moment they looked almost like a sentence someone had finally decided to finish.
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