Black and white photo of an upper thigh with a fine line star, scattered dots and two outlined triangles tattooed on the skin.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Star, dots and triangles on a thigh

Fine line · Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

The photograph shows two bare legs in a dark jumper, with a tattoo on the outer upper thigh of the right leg. The design is an outlined five-pointed star with a cluster of small scattered dots and stars around it, plus two outlined triangles, one above and one to the right. The image is greyscale, with fine, delicate linework and a soft, even light across the skin.

Fine line Geometric Thigh Star Triangle

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Marjorie,

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The theodolite froze again last night, so Pryce and I lay on the wet heather and waited for the sky to clear enough to take our bearings. He swore at the brass and I counted stars instead, because I have never managed to sit still without counting something. There were more than I could keep track of. A loose spray of them spilled across the ridge like someone had shaken a tin of pepper over the dark, and above them, bright and steady, was the one Pryce insists we fix on for the Cairn Hill station.

Here is what I did not say at your wedding. The new pillar is meant to sit exactly where the three peaks meet, and the three peaks do not meet. They make a small, stubborn triangle nearly a furlong across, and every sum we run comes out with the same sulk in it. I blamed my arithmetic first, then the instruments, then the damp. Last night I drew the three summits on the back of my ledger and saw the trouble was none of those. One peak sits in the wrong place on the old sheet, and nobody has walked up to check since 1902.

I wrote that down, tore the page out, and wrote it again more politely. Pryce read it over my shoulder and said the sheet was printed by men who had never been cold in their lives, and that we would be the ones to put it right.

So on Thursday I am going up alone with a flask and a rope, to find the stone the old men buried and see whether it lies. If the mistake is mine, you will hear about it. If it is the map's, you will hear about that louder. Pryce says the star never moves, and I said stars move all the time, it is only we who stand still long enough to notice. Keep the bed warm for me.

Your sister, Nell