Three matching black Roman numeral III tattoos in a fine line style on three wrists, with hands clasped together over a carpet.

Three matching Roman numeral III wrist tattoos

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Three wrists are pressed together, each showing a small black Roman numeral III tattoo. The numerals are made of thin, even vertical strokes with no shading, set on the inner wrist. The photograph is taken from above on a grey-green textured carpet, and the tattoos are the only colour-free focal points against the skin.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Roman numeral Wrist

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Rain had been coming off the awning of Corn Market for an hour when Nell Ashdown finally gave up pretending to count stock. The stall had come to the three of them from old Mr Vane, who had mended clocks above the fishmonger's until his hands shook too much for fine work. What was left was a bench, a cardboard box of loose brass numerals and a note in brown ink: Keep time together, III.

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Pete wanted to sell the lot to the scrap man who had been circling since breakfast. Dot wanted to keep the box. Nell wanted the rain to stop long enough to hear herself think, which was not going to happen on a Thursday in March.

At four the scrap man came under a black umbrella and offered eleven pounds for the lot. Pete was already nodding. Dot said nothing. She tipped the box onto the oilcloth so the numerals spilled out, dull and green at the edges. Among them were three matching threes, each a neat set of three slim bars, filed so fine they looked like lines of rain on glass. Vane had made them for someone, Nell thought, and then never sold them.

They did not sell. The three of them sat under the awning and pressed their hands together on the oilcloth, palm to palm, the way children do when they swear a secret. The scrap man shook his umbrella and walked off towards the bus station. Pete laughed. Dot wrote the date on the lid of the box, and nobody mentioned the rain again.