Small black and grey silhouette tattoo with a curling line above it on the outer ankle of a bare foot.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small black silhouette tattoo on ankle

Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

A small tattoo of a dark silhouette, with a thin curling line rising above it, sits on the outer ankle of a bare foot. The shading is greyscale, with solid black areas and softer grey tones. The foot is shown from the side against a dark background, with the tattoo as the main point of focus.

Ankle Silhouette Figure Curl Line

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Now sit still, the lot of you, and don't go poking at the fire, Walter, it's your mother's good coal. Aye, that's the one. I'll tell you about Nan Hesketh, who lived at the top of Corporation Lane in Milnthorpe the winter the canal froze solid and the pigeons came down off the mill roof like dropped washing.

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She had a stool with three legs and no back, and every evening she sat on it at the mouth of the alley with her clay pipe going. People said she was taking the weather in. Whatever the wind was doing over the valley, she'd draw a thread of it through the pipe smoke and knot it in her apron pocket, so the chapel roof stayed on and the kites didn't tangle in the telegraph wires. Nobody paid her. You didn't pay for that sort of thing, you just left a bit of coal on her step.

Then came the spring the Hesketh boy went off to the coast for work and never wrote. Nan sat on that stool a fortnight straight, and the smoke from her pipe went up thin and crooked, curling back on itself as if it were looking for somebody. On the fifteenth night she stood, folded the stool under one arm, and walked off down the cobbles toward the sea. The pipe was still lit. The smoke followed her all the way to the harbour wall, where it drew out long and straight and settled over the water like a rope thrown to a boat.

Walter's dad swore the boy came home on that rope. I never asked him whether he'd seen it. I only know the stool was back on her step the next morning, and somebody had painted it black.