A tiny black star tattoo sits on the upper chest near the collarbone of a person wearing a grey top, against a blue background.

Small star tattoo on the upper chest

Chest · Black and grey · Photo

A single small five-pointed star in solid black ink sits on the upper chest, just below the collarbone. The star is the only subject, with clean, simple edges and no surrounding shading. The warm skin tones contrast with the blue background and grey fabric, and the tattoo is placed near the centre of the frame.

Chest Star

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The boat was already halfway down the slip when Auntie Morag shouted that you'd forgotten the tin of matches, so you ran back up the shingle with your sandals slapping and your hair full of salt. Nobody on Skerra Sound pretended the island was big. It was barely a mile across, and everyone knew where everybody's dog slept. Still, the sea had a way of making a mile feel like a county.

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Your father had taught you to find north without a compass: pick the brightest point above the pier, then follow the line down to the black tooth of rock where the seals hauled out. That night there was no moon, only cloud tearing apart like wet paper, and the lamp at the harbour mouth had failed again. You stood at the tiller and looked for the one star he always called the Sound's own, a hard little point the cloud kept hiding.

When it showed, it was smaller than you remembered, five sharp corners pricked into the dark. You steered for it. The boat lifted on the swell, the engine coughed and held, and the rocks slid past close enough to hear them breathing. Morag had been right about the matches. You struck the last one and lit the bow lamp, and its yellow reached out over the water like a hand.

Back on the slip, your father did not say well done. He nodded towards the rock, then towards you, as if you were the one who had been keeping the light all along, and handed you the empty tin to carry home.