Small line drawing of a girl in a dress on forearm
Forearm · Black and grey · Photo
The tattoo shows a small figure of a girl seen from behind, with her hair tied with a bow, her hands clasped behind her back and a full dress with a layered hem. It is drawn in solid black outlines with simple hatched shading on the dress and no colour. The figure sits centrally on the inner forearm, photographed against a light carpet.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The mule had gone lame at the last cairn, so Ottilie walked the rest of the Sorrow Pass with her hands knotted behind her back, the way her grandmother walked into church. The wind pushed the hem of her good blue dress out in layers, each ruffle snapping like a sail. Far below, the valley had folded itself into shadow, and somewhere down there the cheese merchant was waiting with the coins for her brother's boots.
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Her ribbon had come loose twice. She retied it each time without turning round, because Anselm, the guide, had told her at the bottom that nobody who looked back at the pass ever reached the top. He said it kindly, the way you warn a child about the ice on a pond. She believed him, mostly, and kept her eyes on the grey shoulder of rock where the path bent out of sight.
Halfway up the switchbacks a bird called from the scree, and Anselm stopped. "You can look now," he said. "The worst of it is behind us." Ottilie did not look. She listened to stones skittering under his boots and counted the ruffles of her skirt against her palms, five, six, seven, until the path levelled and the wind dropped away.
When she finally turned, the valley was a thread of silver and the merchant's town no bigger than a thumbnail. She had meant to look properly. Instead she stood a while with her back to the view and her hands still clasped, feeling the sun on the nape of her neck. The view could wait its turn. For now she let the path stretch on ahead of her as far as it liked.
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