Fine line tattoo of three arrows running diagonally across the inner forearm near the wrist, in black and grey ink.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Three arrows on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Three arrows are drawn diagonally along the inner forearm, each with a pointed head, feathered fletching and a slim shaft. The thin, even linework is in dark ink with some lighter grey shading on the upper arrow. The photo is taken from above the wrist, with the tattoo centred and a patterned carpet and fabric blurred in the background.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The tent poles groan when the wind comes off the fen, and you are standing on the sawdust with the bow in one hand and a rag of chalk in the other, marking the target for the third time this week. Nobody in the front rows has paid to watch you miss, but nobody has paid for much lately. The big top has a hole the size of a dinner plate above the ring, and rain comes through it in a steady line onto the trapeze nobody flies any more.

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Ezra Quill, who has run the Quill & Sons Travelling Circus since before the war, calls it your act and your father's act, and tells you that three arrows make a story. The first is for the crowd, the second for the man who will not let you forget the first, the third for whoever you cannot save. He says this every night from the wings, chewing an unlit pipe because he is not allowed to light it inside the canvas.

Tonight you loose the first two in quick succession, and they stand quivering in the board with their feathers humming. The third you hold. Your hand is steady. The lamp hisses. Somebody in the back row coughs, and the sound climbs up into the hole in the roof and is gone.

You lower the bow. Then you cross the ring, pull the last arrow from the quiver, and press it into the hands of the girl who sweeps the sawdust, because she has been watching you since spring and a bow is no use to anyone who only ever aims at the board.

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