Small solid black fine tattoo of a semicolon whose dot is a Mickey Mouse head silhouette, on the forearm of pale skin.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small black semicolon tattoo with mouse-ear dot

Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small semicolon tattoo sits on pale skin, with its dot formed from three rounded circles arranged as a mouse head silhouette. The ink is solid black with smooth, even edges and no shading. The close crop and plain background keep the focus on the small design, with the skin lit softly and the surrounding area mostly out of focus.

Forearm Semicolon Mickey mouse Mouse ears Punctuation

Find an artist for this

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

Dora Fenn had painted fairground banners for nineteen summers, and she knew a blot when she saw one. The spot above the semicolon on the Ghost Train banner was not a blot. It had three round lobes, two small ears and a head, and it had appeared overnight while the canvas dried on the back of the lorry. "Rain," said Terry, who ran the generator and blamed the weather for everything. Dora did not believe in rain that drew ears.

Keep reading

The banner read: The carousel stops at midnight; the ghosts go home. She had lettered that line herself in the spring, in the squat black capitals her father had taught her, and she had always liked the semicolon best of all the marks. It was a stop that refused to be a full stop. It held two clauses together and said, not yet, there's more to come. Terry wanted the banner scrubbed and repainted before the Marsh Coldham opening. Dora said she would think about it.

That night she sat on the step of the caravan with a cup of tea gone cold and watched the lights of the big wheel blink over the empty field. Something small ran along the rail of the carousel, stopped, looked back at her, and ran on. When she climbed the fence to follow it, the dot was gone from the canvas, but the grass beyond the ropes was pressed flat in a neat round track that led nowhere she could find.

In the morning the banner hung above the gate as it always had. The semicolon sat under its dot, the two sentences leaning on each other, and the crowd filed past toward the next line without ever seeing that the mark was still waiting for the rest of the story.