Two small fine line black outline tattoos on two ankles, one showing a rocket and the other a ringed planet.

Rocket and ringed planet ankle tattoos

Fine line · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

Two small tattoos sit on two different ankles, one showing a rocket with a round window and fins and the other a ringed planet. The linework is thin and even, in a single dark ink with no shading. The photo is taken at close range with the two feet resting against each other, and the tattoos are the clear focus on a plain, softly lit background.

Fine line Ankle Rocket Planet Saturn Space Outline

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit closer, the lamp is nearly out and these stories go better in the dark. You want to know why nothing ever flew from the crossing at Vel Sarn? Because Teodor Mavrin, the customs clerk, had one rule: anything that left the ground needed a stamp, and he had never once in thirty years issued one.

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The two Brandt sisters, Ilse and Marta, pooled their coins at the Thursday market and bought a pair of tin trinkets from a stall run by a deaf man. One was a rocket with a round window and two fat fins. The other was a planet with a ring around its middle, drawn in the same thin black line. They agreed that whoever crossed the bridge first would carry the rocket, and the one left behind would keep the planet, so the two of them would always be pointed at the same sky.

Ilse went over the frozen river in February with the rocket buttoned in her coat. Marta stayed on the hill and drew planets on the backs of every letter she sent down. Mavrin read each one under his green lamp. He stamped the envelopes and kept the drawings, because he did not know what else to do with a ringed world that had no permit. Eleven years of them piled in his drawer, and every one came back with the same red word across the rings: PERMITTED.

When he died, the drawer went to the bridge and the sisters were allowed to collect it. Ilse held the rocket up against the top sheet. The two lines met at the edge of the paper, and the fins touched the rings exactly where Marta had left a gap. Nobody needs a stamp for that, the old man says, though I suppose they got one in the end.