Fine black line outline of a lotus flower tattoo on the outer ankle, photographed on a plastic-wrapped surface.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small lotus outline tattoo on the ankle

Fine line · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

A small lotus flower is outlined in thin black ink on the outer side of an ankle, with the foot raised towards the top of the frame. The linework is single-weight and unshaded, with the petals drawn as simple open shapes. The photograph is taken against a glossy, plastic-wrapped surface, with a dark sleeve and a red fabric visible at the edges.

Fine line Botanical Ankle Lotus Flower Outline

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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

The rain came down on the Saturday market the way it always did in February, sideways off the canal and into the gaps between the tarpaulins. Mr Okafor's fish van had gone quiet by eleven, and I was left with a box of unsold brass fittings and a thermos of tea gone cold. I should have packed up. Instead I sat under the awning and watched the plastic sheeting on the stall opposite ripple and shine, like the surface of a pond somebody had wrapped in cellophane.

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Dot from the flower stall came across at half past with two buckets of dripping stems she couldn't sell and wouldn't throw away. She set one bucket down by my boots and said the lilies were for me, which was a lie, because nobody buys lilies in the rain. Among them was a single white bloom with its petals still shut tight, the kind that opens only once the water has finished falling. She tucked it into the neck of my jar and told me to watch it, the way you'd watch a kettle.

I watched it. By the time the stallholders started dragging their trestles inside, the petals had loosened one by one and folded back, each tip a little sharper than the last. I sketched it on the back of a receipt, my pen dragging through the damp, and I drew only the outlines because the flower had no need of colour. Dot read it over my shoulder and said I'd made it look like a star someone had pulled apart with care. I told her that was the nicest thing anyone had said about my handwriting in years.

I've kept the receipt in the tin with the good buttons. The rain has long since stopped and the flower went to compost, but the drawing is still there, and I keep meaning to have it inked properly before it fades.