Fine line tattoo of a small sunburst, a tiny star and a diagonal line on the inner forearm near the elbow, shown in two photographs.

Sunburst and line on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A fine line sunburst with short radiating rays sits low on the forearm near the elbow, with a diagonal dash above it and a tiny four-point star to its left. The linework is thin and even, with the rays drawn as single strokes and no visible shading. The ink is a dark grey-blue on pale skin, and the soft, plain white background keeps the focus on the small, sparse composition.

Fine line Geometric Forearm Sun Sunburst Star Line

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

You keep the lamp off on the landing because the streetlight through the stairwell window is enough to see the stairs by, and because the tram depot across the road has a sodium glow that turns everything the colour of weak tea. Somebody has left a bicycle chained to the banister again. You step over its pedal and count the steps the way your grandmother taught you, out loud, under your breath. Fourteen to the half-landing. Nine more to the door.

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Upstairs the flat smells of solder and burnt toast. Marisol is at the kitchen table with a magnifier clamped to a mug and a sheet of tracing paper covered in pencil ticks, and she does not look up when you come in. She just says the thing she has said every night this month, that the cheap brass lens will never focus the way the Zeiss one did, and you say the thing you always say, which is that the sun doesn't need a good lens to be seen. She laughs at that, one short bark, and pushes a cup of tea across the table toward you without asking.

By three o'clock the window is grey and the rooftops have edges again. Marisol has drawn a single line across the paper, long and confident, and beside it a small burst of rays, each one a single stroke, the way you both agreed a sun should be drawn when you are in a hurry. She tips the paper so you can see it and asks whether it is finished. You look at the little four-pointed star she has squeezed into the corner, the one she swore was a mistake, and you tell her it is exactly right, and you watch her decide to believe you.