Black and grey tattoo of two stacked dreamcatchers with feathers and an arrow across the top, on the outer thigh of a person in denim shorts.

Stacked dreamcatchers and feathers on a thigh

Geometric · Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

Two dreamcatchers are stacked vertically on the outer thigh, each with a flower-like web of fine lines inside a circular hoop. Feathers hang from the lower hoop and a feathered arrow-like shape runs across the top, with shading used on the feathers. The tattoo is in black and grey, and the photograph is black and white, with the frame cropped to the thigh and denim shorts.

Geometric Thigh Dreamcatcher Feather Arrow Flower Circle Web

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The wasps had found the windfalls again by the time Nell reached the bottom row, so she hung the first hoop from the lowest bough of the Blenheim and went back for the ladder. Uncle Tom had bent it from willow cut in the Wye meadows and bound it with waxed thread, the web inside knotted into a flower because, he claimed, no spider ever drew a straight line in its life. The thread had gone grey with a summer of rain, but the knots were still tight.

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Ruth was on the far side of the orchard, shaking a Discovery tree and swearing softly at the ladder. Nell climbed up with the second hoop in her teeth and tied it beneath the first, the two of them hanging like a pair of cartwheels that had stopped rolling. From the lower one she strung the jay feathers Tom had gathered from the path after the moult, each one tied at the quill and left to turn. Nobody had asked for them to be here. They were simply what he had left in the shed, in a biscuit tin marked TWINE.

The forecast said storms by Sunday, and the air had that brassy weight that comes before the leaves turn. Ruth came over with a bucket of bruised fruit and asked whether the things actually worked. Nell thought about the bed in the front room, the way Tom had asked her to tell him the sky was blue even on the days it wasn't, and said that they caught the bad dreams and let the good ones through. It was what he had told her every night of her childhood. She had only just understood he said it so she would sleep, not because he believed it.

The wind came up at dusk and set both hoops turning, slowly, the feathers swinging out and back until they caught the last of the light over the hedge. The wasps gave up on the windfalls and drifted away towards the village. Nell stood under the Blenheim with her hands in her pockets and watched the thread spin, its knots holding fast against everything the wind could do.