Small traditional-style tattoo of a grey oval with blue and red starburst rays on the middle finger of a hand held in a loose fist.

Small starburst and oval on a finger

Traditional · Hand · Mixed · Photo

A small tattoo on the middle finger shows a shaded grey oval object with a dark outline and highlight, set against a blue and red starburst. The linework is bold and the shading is smooth, with the colour applied within a simple outlined shape. The hand is held in a loose fist, with the finger turned toward the camera and a blurred indoor background.

Traditional Hand Oval Starburst Finger tattoo

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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

Shift up on that log and mind the nettles, they've got opinions. You want the stone in the beech hollow told properly, not the version the children shout across the green. It came down on a night in October when the bracken was still green, and the sky split white over Greave Wood as if someone had struck a flint against the moon. Where it landed, the ferns went out in a ring, and the edges of that ring were blue and red, the colours of a scorched match.

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Old Jonah Pell went up with his barrow at first light, expecting a dead fox or a sheep's rib. What he found was a grey oval as big as a goose egg, dark round the rim, with a shine on one side like wet slate. It was cold. Not cold like the morning, cold like a well. He put it in his coat pocket to bring home, and by the time he reached the stile he'd forgotten the barrow altogether and was standing in the lane with his hand pressed flat against his chest, counting nothing.

He buried it under the old ash by the chapel wall, and for forty years he never once spoke of it. Then the spring the ash came back grey, not green, its leaves shaped like small shells, and the whole village knew something had been put in the ground that wanted to come up. My grandmother always said the trick was to leave a thing like that where it lay and keep your own hands warm. Jonah's never did get warm again, and that's the only lesson I know. Now pass me that flask, my throat's gone the colour of the sky that night.