Fine line botanical tattoo of a small sprig with pale pink flowers and green leaves on the inner forearm.

Small pink flower sprig on an inner forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A small sprig of pale pink flowers with green leaves and thin dark stems is tattooed on the inner forearm. The linework is delicate and fine, with soft, watercolour-like shading in pink, lilac and muted green. The design sits off-centre on a plain skin background against a grey textured fabric.

Fine line Botanical Forearm Flower Sprig Leaves Blossom Stem

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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 lift on Harcourt House had been out since Tuesday, so Ruth Akers took the stairs with a carrier bag in each hand and a sprig wrapped in kitchen roll balanced on top. By the eleventh floor her calves were burning. The stairwell smelled of bleach and someone's fried onions, and the strip light on the landing buzzed like a trapped wasp.

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Her neighbour on fourteen, Mr Tomasz Wilk, had asked her to bring the cutting down from the rooftop garden, where the residents' association grew things in old paint tins. He wanted it for his wife, who had moved into a home in Eastbourne last spring and could no longer manage stairs, let alone a lift. The pink flowers were already going papery at the edges. Ruth had watched them open that morning, five petals each, pale as the inside of a shell.

At the fourteenth floor door she found it open. Tomasz sat on the step with his cap in his hands, not looking at her. On the windowsill behind him stood an empty clay pot, its soil dry and cracked, and a row of old photographs held down by a river stone. "Put it there," he said, nodding at the pot. "She always said the lilac ones only flower if you talk to them."

Ruth knelt, pressed the stem into the soil and murmured something she felt silly about. The late light caught the petals and they glowed as if they had been painted on glass. Tomasz laughed once, a short surprised sound, and then he was crying quietly into his cap. Ruth stayed kneeling until the buzzing light downstairs clicked off and the evening came in grey and low over the car park.