Small fine line tattoo of a red apple with a green leaf on the upper arm, against a pale background.

Small red apple on upper arm

Fine line · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A small apple with a curved stem and a single green leaf is drawn in thin dark outline. The apple is filled with soft red ink that sits slightly off the outline, giving a loose, hand-coloured look. The tattoo is centred on a plain, lightly freckled upper arm against a pale background and a dark top.

Fine line Upper arm Apple Fruit Leaf Stem

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit down, sit, and let the sun come off your shoulders before you take another step. Three days back, past the salt flats, a girl came up to my stall with one red apple in her fist and nothing else. Her feet were bound in rag and her lips were split. She did not ask for water. She asked for a ride on the water cart to the caravan at Dun Well, and she held that apple out like a coin.

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I knew the fruit. It still had its stalk and a single green leaf, which is how you know an apple came from the orchards of Halder, where the trees drink from a river that runs under the hills. Nothing grows like that out here, so I asked her what she wanted it for. She said there was a man in the caravan who had not eaten in six days, and his sister had told her that red fruit could bring the colour back into a face. The girl did not believe it. She only wanted to try, and she said trying was the one thing her grandmother had taught her to carry.

I gave her the ride and a cloth for her feet. Before the cart pulled out she cut the apple in two with a blade no longer than my thumb, kept the bigger half for the sick man, and left me the small piece on the stall. I ate it. It was sour and sweet and cold from the cellar, and I have not tasted anything so clean since.

The next spring, after the one rain that comes once in a generation, I walked out to the bend where the cart had turned. In the cracked mud there was a single green shoot with a leaf the size of a fingernail, and beside it a pip the girl must have spat out on the way. Ask the wind how it got there. I only know the shoot is still standing, and I have never once sold the last apple on my stall.