Black and white photo of a small fine line eye tattoo with radiating rays on the side of the torso, above a skirt waistband, with a hand resting nearby.

Small eye tattoo on the side torso

Fine line · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A small outlined eye with a dotted iris sits on the side of the torso, with short radiating lines above it. The linework is fine and crisp, with no shading beyond the iris detail. The photo is in black and white, showing a lace top, a hand with dark nail polish and rings, and a dark skirt around the tattoo.

Fine line Ribs Eye Ray Sunburst Outline

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

Mags Harrod had counted the lamps twice before the cage bell rang, because her father had taught her that a miscount at the lamp room meant a man going down without light. Brass checks hung on the board in rows, each one stamped with a number. Forty-one out, forty-one to come back.

Keep reading

The old lamp man, Eli Shaw, kept a drawing pinned above the bench. It was a single eye, inked by a surveyor who had worked the Ashby seam before the flood, and beneath it he had written in a careful hand: what sees the gas sees the way out. Nobody in Hollin Bank believed it, but nobody took the drawing down either. Pencil rays fanned from its brow like the sun coming up over the spoil heap, and Mags used to think it looked surprised.

The afternoon shift did not come up. The bell rang at quarter past four and then stopped, and the pit wheel stood still with its ropes hanging slack. Mags took the rack of lamps down from the hook and checked the flames one at a time, turning each wick until the glass glowed. She counted again. Forty-one. She carried the first lamp to the window and held it against the pit gates, watching the light bend in the dust.

When the cage finally rose, it brought up thirty-nine men and a boy carrying Eli on a door. Mags didn't cry until she had hung the last lamp back on its hook. Then she took the drawing down, folded it twice, and put it in her apron pocket, because a thing that watched should be somewhere it could see home.