Small fine line tattoo of a steaming teacup on a saucer, in black ink on the inner forearm of a person wearing a coral top.

Teacup and saucer on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small outline tattoo of a teacup with wisps of steam rising from it, sitting on a simple saucer. The linework is thin and even in black ink, with no shading or fill. The tattoo sits centrally on the inner forearm against a soft, slightly blurred background of a coral top and skirt.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Every evening Maud Ferrier carried a cup of tea to the edge of the wood and set it on the flat stone beneath the hawthorn. She did not sweeten it. Her grandmother had told her the wood liked its tea plain and hot, and that it drank the steam before the liquid, which was why the cup had to be filled to the brim and carried without spilling.

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Nobody in Harrow Dell asked what the wood did with the tea. They asked why Maud's fingers were always scalded, and she said it was the kettle, and they believed her, because she was the miller's girl and had never lied about anything smaller than a loaf.

The winter the river froze, the bridge timbers cracked and three woodcutters went into the oaks after the fallen timber and did not come out by dusk. Maud went out with her cup as usual. Steam curled from it in the cold, thin and grey, and she saw it lean away from her toward the trees, the way a dog leans toward a door it knows. She followed the lean. Beyond the hawthorn, on a saucer furred with frost, stood another cup, older than the first, cracked along the handle, its own steam rising straight up as if it had been waiting a long time for someone to bring it company.

Maud set her cup beside it. The wood took the steam from both, and out of the trees came the woodcutters, blinking, their axes left behind in the snow. She walked them home by lantern light. The cup stayed where it was, and in spring the hawthorn flowered over a pale ring on the stone.

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