Small fine line black daisy tattoo on the side of a finger, next to a wire-wrapped gold ring, in a botanical style.

Small daisy tattoo on a finger

Fine line · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

A small daisy is drawn in thin black linework on the side of a finger, with a layered circle at its centre and a ring of rounded petals. The lines are light and even, with no shading, and the ink appears dark grey-black against warm skin. The plain background and close framing keep the tattoo as the clear focus, with a gold wire ring visible on a neighbouring finger.

Fine line Botanical Hand Daisy Flower Petal Circle Floral

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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

At half past four the ovens are the only warm thing on Calder Street, and you are already behind. Flour dust lies along the rails of the proving racks like frost. Your uncle Ronnie taught you to judge a loaf by the sound it makes when you tap its base, hollow as an empty chapel, and you still tap every one before you trust it.

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The order book has a single line in pencil: twelve fruit buns for the Hallidays' christening, and under it, in a hand that shakes a little, "daisies if you can, love, the little ones." Nobody has asked you for daisies in nine years. You cut the nozzle of the piping bag to the width of a pinhead and draw the first petal onto a round of sweet dough, then ring it with another, and another, a wheel of rounded loops closing around a small dark eye at the centre, the way Nan did on her Sunday teacakes.

By the time the first van rattles past the shutter, the tray is full of them, each one a shade different, none quite straight. The sky over the roofs goes from ink to pewter. You set the trays to cool, wipe your hands on the cloth that was your father's, and realise you have been humming the hymn he used to hum at the oven door.

At seven, Mrs Halliday lifts the lid of the box and says nothing for a long moment. Then she counts the daisies with one finger, the way you count change, and says, "He'd have liked these." You fold the lid back down and tie the string twice. Outside, the light arrives the way it always does on this street, slowly, one petal at a time.