Black and grey realism sunflower tattoo with shaded petals and two leaves on the inner forearm.

Sunflower on the inner forearm

Realism · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A sunflower with a shaded centre, layered petals and a long stem with two leaves, tattooed on the inner forearm. The work uses soft grey shading and fine detail to show depth in the petals and leaves. The image is taken close up with the arm filling the frame against a dark, out-of-focus background.

Realism Botanical Forearm Sunflower Flower Leaves Stem

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The decree was nailed to the Sun-Gate in the second week of harvest, and by the next market day every bloom in Ashmere had been ordered to face the citadel, under the Crown's seal and a fine of three silver marks. Idony Pell read it twice at the well, folded it into her apron, and walked home past her neighbours' yards, where the flowers had already been turned like soldiers on parade.

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Her son Rafe had gone to the salt marshes the spring before, after a quarrel about that same gate and a bucket of paint that had not been his to throw. He left without his good boots and without a word of forgiveness, and the only thing he had planted was a sunflower by the back step, grown from a seed the size of a fingernail until it stood taller than the door. It was the one thing in the yard that had never once faced the citadel. When the sergeant came with his brass rule, measuring stalks and clucking his tongue, Idony stood in front of the flower with her arms crossed and told him the stalk was too thick to bend, which was true enough.

Every evening the great dark head swung west with the light, slowly, the way a man turns to watch a road. Idony sat on the step and followed the shadow of its petals across the beans until the marsh lamps came on far off, small as pins. She did not pray for anything. She simply kept the kettle warm and the door on the latch.

On the first frost, a boy with salt in his hair came up the lane carrying his boots in one hand. The flower hung so low over the path that he had to duck beneath its face to reach the step, and it was still turned toward the marsh when she came out, wiping her hands on her apron, to see what had blocked her gate.