Close-up of a small row of tiny coloured dots in red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple tattooed on a forearm, in front of a rainbow-striped backdrop.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small rainbow dot tattoo on a forearm

Dotwork · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A row of seven or so tiny solid dots runs across the inner forearm, each in a different colour, roughly following the order of the rainbow. The dots are small and evenly spaced with clean edges, and the skin around them looks lightly healed. The background is a large rainbow-striped fabric, which sits behind the arm and makes the coloured dots stand out.

Dotwork Fine line Forearm Dot Rainbow Flag

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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

By the third week of the final tour, the Halloran Brothers' Travelling Spectacular had more ghosts than performers, and you were the one still climbing the rigging with a canvas bag of spare bulbs slung across your chest. The big top sagged in the middle like a tired horse. Every evening you hauled yourself up the lighting ladder to check the string that ran pole to pole above the ring, seven coloured lamps, red at the entrance end and violet at the far one, because Mr Halloran said a show needed some order even when nothing else did.

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Each night one of them went out, and nobody else would climb for it. Dolores, who had walked the wire since before you were born, sat on an upturned crate in her faded sequins and watched you through the gap in the canvas. "You'll be up there till they strike the tent," she said. "Seven bulbs, seven colours, and the town thinks the rainbow's only something you see after rain."

You fitted the orange lamp that night, the only orange you had, still warm from the previous town's show. Below, the band struck up something slow and out of tune, and a handful of farmers clapped from the back row, their breath showing in the cold.

On the last night the crowd was two families and a dog. You climbed with the final bulb in your pocket, the blue one, and found the string already dark except for the red lamp at the entrance. You screwed the blue in anyway. When you looked down, Dolores had stood up off her crate to see it, and you kept the bag of spares on your shoulder as you came back down the ladder.