Rose and spiderweb forearm tattoo on a biker
Traditional · Forearm · Mixed · Photo
A bearded man with long hair sits side on to a motorcycle, photographed from behind, wearing a black t-shirt with printed lettering. His forearm carries a tattoo of red roses, green leaves and a spiderweb, with script ink above and a neck tattoo visible. The palette mixes red and green with black linework, and the shallow focus keeps the background soft.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The web had gone up overnight between the wheelhouse rail and the rose bush that grew against the net loft wall, and by six o'clock the dew had hung on every strand so that the whole corner of the quay looked strung with glass beads. Ada Pell stood over it with a cup of tea going cold in her hand and a sack of tarred twine at her feet. The Lark was due to go out on the morning tide, and the nets still had three holes in them the size of a man's fist.
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She sat on an upturned crate and started the first knot, the needle moving in and out of the mesh the way her mother had taught her, quick and without looking. Across the rail the spider waited in the middle of her web, patient as a bailiff, her legs drawn in against the cold. Hal Mercer came down the steps with his boots unlaced and stopped at the sight of it. A web on a boat was bad luck, he said, and a web on a boat that was going out on his watch was worse. Ada did not look up. She said the spider had been there before the Lark and would be there after, and she tied off the knot.
Hal went back up the steps swearing softly, and Ada finished the net by the time the sun cleared the sea wall. The Lark went out on the flood with her crew aboard and the mended net stowed below. Ada stayed on the quay until the boat was a speck, then looked back at the rail. The web was still there, one thread loose and trailing toward the mast, and the rose beside it had dropped its last petals onto the stones. She counted the boats in each evening by the light catching on that thread.
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