Small black geometric diamond tattoo on the ankle of a woman wearing black suede heeled shoes.

Small geometric diamond on an ankle

Geometric · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

A small faceted diamond outline sits on the side of an ankle, with the legs crossed and resting on a striped brown background. The design is built from angular black facets with some areas filled solid and others left lighter, giving a sharp, dimensional look. The tattoo is shown in black ink only, and it is positioned as a focal point in the lower part of the frame above the black suede shoes.

Geometric Ankle Diamond Gem Geometric shape

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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

Now mind the step, because the lamps on Gallow Row have been dark since the frost, and I'll not have you tripping over your own boots before I've finished. Sit. Good. Tonight's about a stone that was cut badly on purpose.

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Mrs Orla Venn kept a cutting shop above the fish market in Kettle Wynd, and she had hands like cold tongs and a temper to match. Every night at the ninth bell she would shutter the window, light one candle, and turn a rough diamond on her wheel until it threw light across the ceiling like a fish-scale sky. The men who came to sell her stones never got a fair price, because she could see the flaw inside a stone the way I can see a lie in a man's cough.

One winter a boy came up the stairs with a grey pebble wrapped in his grandmother's handkerchief. He said it was the only thing she had left from the lighthouse fund, and that he wanted it made into something no one could take from him. Orla unwrapped it, held it to the candle, and went very quiet. Inside the grey was a faceted heart no bigger than a barley grain, and around it ran a cage of hairline cracks, each one angled exactly as a true facet should be.

She did not cut it. She drew it instead, on the back of an invoice: a small hard shape of black ink, its planes shaded solid here and left bare there, and she told the boy that a thing drawn sharp is harder to lose than a thing polished bright. He did not understand her. He came back forty years later, grey himself, and asked her daughter for the same drawing, and a copy still hangs above a counter in a harbour town three hundred miles from here.

So when you walk home past the shuttered market tonight, remember that the cut was in the drawing, not the stone. Now off with you, the candle is out.