Black and grey photo of a small fine line arrow tattoo with triangular fletching on a person's upper chest, below the collarbone.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small arrow tattoo on the upper chest

Fine line · Chest · Black and grey · Photo

A close, cropped black and white photograph of a person's upper torso, with the face and head out of frame. A small arrow with a triangular head and triangular fletching is drawn in thin, dark linework, placed at the centre of the upper chest between the white strap of a top and the skin. The image is monochrome, with soft shadows on the shoulder and a plain background that keeps focus on the tattoo.

Fine line Geometric Chest Arrow Triangle Small tattoo

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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

The rain has got into the canvas again by the time you take the last of the bows down, and Mr Pell is counting tin tokens into his cap with his tongue between his teeth. You have been on the archery booth since eight. Eleven bales of straw, one bent target, and a board of painted balloons that nobody has popped since Whitstable.

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He calls you over before you can lock the flap. From the cash box he takes a single arrow, not one of the fibreglass ones you hand to the children, but an old ash shaft with a triangular head his father filed out of a biscuit tin. Three triangles of fletching, each cut from the same blue oilcloth, sharp as a folded letter.

"Keep that," he says. "Don't use it on the paying lot. It flies straight only when you've stopped wanting it to hit something."

You laugh, because it is the sort of thing fairground men say to make a girl feel clever. But that night, in the caravan with the damp creeping through the wall, you hold it to the lamp and sight along it at the far wallpaper, and for once you don't think about the prize at all. You think about the next field the fair is heading for, and how far a thing can travel when it has no need to land.

In the morning the trucks are already rolling. You find the arrow in your coat pocket, warm from your hand, and you wind the window down and let it go over the hedgerow, watching until it disappears into the wheat.