Fine line black outline of a small lotus flower on the inside of a wrist, photographed against a black and white patterned bedspread.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small lotus outline on a wrist

Fine line · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

A small lotus flower is drawn in a single black outline with no shading, showing layered petals and a pointed centre. The linework is clean and even, and the design sits alone on the inner wrist. The background is a black and white patterned fabric, and the image is photographed straight on with soft lighting.

Fine line Botanical Hand Lotus Flower Petal Outline

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mind the fire, you lot, and don't go pulling at the shutters, for the snow came over the ridge and it won't be leaving before Candlemas. Now. Where was I? Ah, the seed. Old Marta at the Drover's Rest kept it in a tea tin with a cracked lid, and every night when the wind found the chimney it rattled that tin like a man shaking dice. She swore it was a lotus seed, brought down from a monk who'd walked out of the far pond country with nothing but a bowl and a bad knee. Nobody believed her. A lotus in a Dales winter? Pah.

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Then the big frost came, the one that split the church bell, and the yard pump froze solid, and the cellar barrels turned to slush and then to stone. Marta boiled what she could, filled a stone jar, and set the tin on the sill above it without a word. The travellers grumbled about the cold and the stale bread. On the ninth night a girl stumbled in off the road with a fever and fingers gone grey with frost, and Marta sat with her until dawn, reciting the names of rivers to keep her from sleeping.

Come morning the girl was sitting up, asking for water. And on the sill, in the little pool of warmth the jar gave off, the seed had split its brown coat and a green shoot had curled up like a fist. By the thaw there was a bud with its petals folded tight, edged black where the frost had bitten. Marta said that was how you knew it had done its work: it kept its shape on the outside and opened on the inside.

Nobody here believes that either. Drink up. The snow's not going anywhere.