Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Smiling cloud character on a finger
Fine line · Hand · Black and grey · Photo
A small tattoo of a cloud-shaped character with a star on its top, closed eyes and a wide smile, drawn in thin black outline. The simple linework has even weight with no shading, and the design sits on the side of a finger. The photograph is taken from above against a pale wooden surface, with the hand and finger filling the frame.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
You were the cloud the court of Vantrey sent up each morning to hang over the bakers' quarter, because you were the only one trusted not to drop rain on the flour. Your star was a loan from the Lord Chamberlain of Night, pinned to your crown of vapour with a silver clip, and he wanted it back by the autumn equinox.
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Nobody told you that a star feels cold when it is taken off the sky. The drought came to Vantrey that summer, the wells turned green, and the old queen sent for you. "Rain," she said from her balcony, "or the star stays where it is and you stay with it." You did not open your eyes. You had learned long ago that if you kept them shut, the wind could not read your face.
So you smiled, the way you did for children on the ferry, and drifted west over the salt marsh with the star tugging at your crown like a kite string. Somewhere above Hollin Reach you let it go. It fell quite slowly and landed in the reeds, where a heron stood on one leg and looked affronted.
The rain came that night, heavy and sweet, and the queen never learned why. The Chamberlain fetched his star from the reeds by morning. You kept your eyes shut, still smiling, and let the marsh water carry you home.
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