Small black fine line tattoo of a USB symbol on the inner forearm, just below a black metal watch strap.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small USB symbol on a wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small black USB symbol is tattooed on the inner wrist, with a black metal watch strap with the word DIESEL sitting above it. The linework is thin and simple, with a trident-like connector and a small filled terminal at the base. The ink is a single dark tone against pale skin, and the sleeve of a grey knit jumper and denim jacket frames the lower part of the photo.

Fine line Forearm Symbol Icon Wrist

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The ferry from Oban was forty minutes late, so Margit spent the crossing in the cafe with a flask of tea and a laptop that refused to wake. Every drive in the world was in that laptop. Her grandmother's recipes, the scanned birth certificates, eleven years of a bakery's accounts. The only copy of anything was a stick the size of a pencil cap, and she had been carrying it on a lanyard for three years without once thinking about it.

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The man at the next table had a little trident on his wrist, just under the cuff of his watch, and when he saw her staring at the laptop he said, without looking up from his crossword, that the port on the left side took the thin plug and the one on the right needed the flat one. She said she knew. He said everyone knew, until the moment they didn't. She laughed and he almost smiled, and that was how she learned his name was Teodor and that he repaired hard drives for insurance firms in Glasgow.

He took the drive apart on the table with a jeweller's screwdriver while the boat rolled. The board was fine, he said. The problem was the connector, which had been bent by something heavy, probably a coat zip in a pocket. He bridged the pins with a sliver of copper from a biscuit tin lid and handed it back to her. The folders opened. Her grandmother's pastry notes were all there, in pencil, with a stain of butter on the corner of one page.

She offered to pay him. He shook his head and pointed at the symbol on his own wrist, the one that looked like a fork in a river. Keep it plugged in, he said, and see that it gets used. Outside the window the grey hills of Mull came up through the spray, and she held the little stick in her palm the whole way across, as if it might still be warm.