Fine line black tattoo of a hand cupping a small heart with radiating rays, placed on the inner wrist.

Small hand holding a heart on the wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small tattoo of an open hand holding a heart at its centre, with fine radiating lines fanning out behind it. The linework is thin and precise, with light stippled detail in the rays and no shading or solid fill. The tattoo is in black ink on pale skin, photographed against a plain light background with the hand raised above it.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mind the step, it's loose, the tide took half the quay in the winter of the big gale and nobody's been paid to fix it since. Now, you want the story of the Mallory girl's hand, and I'll tell it, but you'll sit down first, because I've told it three times this week and my knees have opinions.

Keep reading

She was a netmender's daughter in Porthgwidden, and she had a way with a split line that made old men go quiet. When her father drowned off the Stacks, she kept mending anyway, sitting on the harbour wall with the twine in her lap. The gossips said she'd lost her heart to the sea. She told them plainly it was still in her chest, thank you, and that they could come and check if they doubted her.

The night the boats came in short, she took a lantern down to the water's edge and held it up in one open hand, fingers spread, the way you'd show a dog there was no stone in it. The light went out through her palm in fine threads, like the rays off a church window, and the men on the far rocks steered by them. Every one of them came home. My grandmother swore she saw the heart itself in the glow, small and red and beating, sitting right in the middle of her hand where a lantern wick would be.

She never married, never left, and when she died they found nothing in her cottage but a spool of tarred thread and a tin of lamp oil, empty. Her hand, they say, is still out there on the Stacks at low water, if you look at the right angle. Mind the step on your way out.

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