Black line drawing of a sunflower with stippled centre, surrounded by a curling vine, small flowers, a yin yang symbol and an infinity sign, in a botanical style.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Sunflower with yin yang and infinity symbol

Botanical · Black and grey · Flash

A detailed black ink drawing of a sunflower with a stippled centre and layered pointed petals, set beside a curved vine bearing small five-petal flowers, buds and leaves. A yin yang symbol and an infinity sign sit near the top of the vine, with scattered dots and stars filling the surrounding space. The fine, even linework and dotted shading appear on a plain pale grey background with no colour.

Botanical Sunflower Yin yang Infinity symbol Flower Vine Leaves Bud Star Dot

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The ovens at Halloran's went on at half three, and by four the lane outside smelled of scorched sugar and rye. My dad always said you could tell a good bakery from the street before you saw the sign. I wasn't sure about that, but I liked hearing him say it, so I kept the kettle warm and let him believe it.

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The sunflower loaf was my idea, the one thing I'd ever pushed through the shop's rota without a fight. You scored the crust in a spiral and pressed black seeds into the top so the heads seemed to turn towards the window. Mrs Adeyemi from the flat above came down every morning for the end piece and never paid, and I never charged her, because she'd taught me to knead when I was nine and too proud to cry about the flour on my hands.

On the Tuesday the power went at twenty past four, with the dough half risen and the electric ovens sitting cold. I lit the old brick oven at the back, the one Dad swore had never once gone out, and worked by the glow of a phone torch propped against the flour bin. Behind the bin I found his ledger, and tucked inside its back cover was a faded order slip with a small sketch on it: a vine curling round a ring of stars, a yin and yang tucked into one corner, a loop that might have been an infinity sign. He'd drawn it in the margin the week before he got ill, and I'd never known what it meant.

The loaf came out at ten to six, when the sky over the bins had gone the colour of skimmed milk. I set it on the rack and watched the steam climb the window in slow loops. I didn't know what the drawing meant, but I knew the bread was still warm, and I wrapped a heel of it for Mrs Adeyemi before the lights came back on.