Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Small fine line rabbit on the neck
Fine line · Neck · Black and grey · Photo
A person with dark hair in a bun, tied with a patterned scrunchie, is seen from behind and to the side, showing a small tattoo on the back of the neck just below the hairline and behind the ear. The tattoo is a simple black outline motif that looks like a rabbit head with two long ears and a few whisker-like marks. The background is a plain, warm cream tone with soft, sepia-leaning light.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The tide has been out since before light, and you are the only one on the slipway with a bucket and a torch when the grey hare comes picking along the harbour wall. Its ears lie flat against its back the way the old net-mender's do when she is listening for weather. Nobody in Porthmellow has seen a hare this close to the quay since the rabbits were cleared off the headland for the new coastguard houses.
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It waits by the bollard while you fill the bucket with the crab you were meant to sell to the Tuesday man. Your uncle always said rabbits in a fishing town bring luck or trouble, and it depends which way they face when they leave. This one faces the sea, then turns, and looks at you with the patience of someone who has been waiting years for one particular boat.
You understand it within the hour, when fog comes in off the bay thick as wool and the lighthouse horn starts up. The hare runs ahead along the cliff path, stopping every few yards so you can keep it in sight, and it leads you down to the rocks where the Mary Ann has gone onto the reef with her lamp still burning. You can hear the men shouting before you can see them, and when the fog thins for a moment, there they are, clinging to the rigging.
At dawn the hare is gone. The Mary Ann's skipper comes to the quay with a loaf under one arm and asks who sent word about the reef. You shrug and say nothing, and he tears the loaf in two and gives you the bigger half. By the next spring the boats are back in their berths, and the children swear they see a grey hare sitting on the bollard each dusk, watching the water as if it is counting the boats home.
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