Fine line teal wave tattoo on the top of a bare foot, with blue painted toenails and a toe ring visible.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Thin teal wave on the top of a foot

Fine line · Other · Colour · Photo

A close photograph of a bare foot with a small, thin wave tattoo across the top, near the ankle. The linework is a fine teal line with a darker edge, forming a single curling wave shape. The background is blurred green grass and dark soil, and the foot is lit softly from the side.

Fine line Other Wave Foot Nail polish

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Rain had been coming in sideways off the harbour since six, and by nine the fish market at Carrick Quay was a river of wet cardboard and bruised lettuce. Maureen Doyle had the last pitch under the tin awning, and she was not going to sell another herring before the tide turned, so she sat on an upturned crate and counted coins into a biscuit tin with the patience of someone who had nothing else to do.

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Her nephew Tomas came round the corner pushing the handcart he had painted teal the summer before. On its side, in a single curling stroke, he had drawn a wave, the lines ragged where the brush had run. Nobody had asked him to. It had simply appeared one morning, and Maureen had decided not to mind, because it was the only thing on the quay that looked as though it expected good weather.

"Boat's in," he said, shaking water from his hood. "Skipper says there's a crate of something he won't name."

"Then it's either lobster or trouble."

He grinned and tipped the crate onto the slab. Inside, wrapped in newspaper gone soft as bread, was a glass float the colour of the cart, green-blue and thick as a fist, with a bubble of air trapped at its heart like a held breath.

Maureen turned it over in her hands. The rain drummed on the awning. Somewhere out past the breakwater, the sea rose and folded itself over, the way it had every day for longer than the quay had existed, and she thought she might keep the float for herself.