Small black outline heart tattoo on the inner wrist, drawn in a fine line style.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small outline heart on the inner wrist

Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo

A small heart outline in black ink sits on the inner wrist of a person whose fingers rest at the top of the frame. The linework is thin and even, with no shading or fill inside the heart. The image is in natural light against a dark leather surface, with the tattoo placed near the centre-left of the frame.

Fine line Other Heart

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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

Sit down, sit, the bench is only damp on the left and you'll not mind that. No, I'll not start at the beginning, the beginning is always a man walking somewhere with a bag. Start with the box hedge behind Mrs Pell's cottage, the one she clipped into a heart the summer after Tom Pell was buried. A thin line, mind, no thicker than a bootlace, and nothing inside it but the bare brown earth she'd raked flat.

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The village had opinions, as villages do. Mrs Ajayi from the chapel said a heart ought to be filled, with roses or lavender or something that smelled of a Sunday. Old Harold said it looked like the gap where a tooth had come out. Ada only said that a heart you fill in the first month goes to mush by autumn, and she had seen it happen. So she left the middle empty, watered the hedge, and let the children throw conkers at the edges.

Then, one March, a blackbird built its nest in the corner of the heart, right where the two curves met, and sat on it through a week of sleet without once flinching. Ada carried it worms on a saucer and talked to it about the price of coal. Nobody touched the hedge after that. Harold grumbled that it spoilt the lawn, and went round it with his mower all the same.

By May a single poppy had come up in the middle, out of nothing, out of seed the wind must have carried over the wall years before and that had waited for somebody to stop being so tidy. Ada stood over it with the shears in her hand for a long time. Then she put the shears back in the shed, and that, I'm told, is the only time anyone ever saw her leave a job half done. Now there. Mind the step.