Three small black fine line tattoos on the inner forearm: a sun with the words The Sun, a crescent moon with The Moon, and a yin yang with The Truth.

Sun, moon and yin yang tattoos on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Three small tattoos stacked vertically on the inner forearm, each pairing a simple icon with a line of capitalised text. The icons are a sun with rays, a crescent moon and a yin yang symbol, all drawn in clean black linework. The skin shows hair and scattered freckles, and the plain light background keeps the focus on the small lettering and icons.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Sun Moon Yin yang Text Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Marisol had the ovens lit by half four, the way Mr Okonedo had insisted for thirty-one years, though he was now in a care home in Bexley and no longer needed to know. Flour hung in the air like a held breath. She wheeled the proving rack out of the cold room and set the first tray on the steel bench, the dough still cool and tight under its cloth.

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Taped to the tiles above the sink was the list he had left her, written in biro on the back of a delivery docket. THE SUN. THE MOON. THE TRUTH. Under the sun he had written bake at seven, not before. Under the moon, prove slow and let the night do the work. The truth had no instruction at all, only a small drawing of two curling shapes that she had always taken for a doodle, until he explained that opposites sit side by side in a good loaf.

The window over the yard went from black to bruised grey. The moon, a thin paring, hung above the wheelie bins. Marisol slid the peel under each batch, scored the tops with a razor, and watched the cuts open pale and gold. She knocked the base of the first loaf with her knuckles. It sounded hollow and honest, and she laughed out loud in the empty shop.

When the sun cleared the chimneys at seven, the street smelled of toasted crust and the first customer was tapping on the glass. Marisol took the docket down, turned it over, and under the truth wrote one more line in her own hand: sell them warm, and tell them nothing else.