Small black fine line snowflake tattoo on the middle finger of a hand resting on a plastic-wrapped surface.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small snowflake tattoo on a finger

Fine line · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

A small snowflake with six branches sits on the middle finger of a hand that is photographed palm down with the fingers spread. The design is drawn in thin, dark black lines with simple, even strokes and no shading. The plain background is a blue-grey plastic wrap, and the tattoo is the only colour detail in the composition.

Fine line Hand Snowflake Winter Hand Finger

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Every winter the frost came down off the high ridge and crept into the village of Hollin Ash before anyone had lit the first fire, and every winter old Maud Tennant went out past the last fence to meet it. She carried a pewter tray and a bone-handled knife, and she caught the flakes before they could melt. Then she sat under the alder at the forest edge and cut each one out of blackened paper, six arms, no two the same, and pinned them to the lintels of the houses so the children would know the cold had been counted.

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The year the miller's boy went into the wood after a strayed goat, Maud was not at the alder. She was bent over her tray, because the snow had come early and thick and she could not keep up with it. The boy did not return by dusk. His mother came to the fence with a lantern and found Maud already there, knife in hand, cutting a single flake from a square of white linen she had brought from her own chest.

Maud pressed the linen flat against the lantern's glass and told the mother to walk backwards along the path and not look at the trees. The mother did. Each time she stepped, the paper flake turned a little, and the frost on the path shifted to the left, and in the middle of the wood the boy was sitting on a root with the goat tied to his belt, following the marks in the snow the way a child follows a pattern.

Nobody in Hollin Ash knows what Maud cut that night, but the flake on the miller's door was the smallest they ever saw, and it never melted.