Fine line tattoos of three small black birds in flight on the inner wrist, with a matching trio on another person's shoulder and a partly visible finger tattoo at the top left.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Three small flying birds on wrist and shoulder

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Three small black bird silhouettes in flight are shown on the inner wrist of one arm, with a similar trio on a shoulder or upper back beside it and a partly visible tattoo on a finger at the top left. The birds are simple, solid shapes with clean edges and no shading. The image is a warm-toned, close-up photograph in which the tattoos sit against pale skin, with the arms crossing the frame diagonally.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The swifts had gone a week before Nell noticed, and by then the sky above the allotments had the wiped-slate look it gets in late August. She knelt between the bean canes with her grandfather's trowel, working out the last of the couch grass, and every few minutes she glanced up at the shed eaves where the nest had been, out of habit more than hope.

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Her sister came down the path with two mugs and a flask dented since 1994. 'You're doing it again,' Marian said. 'Counting.' 'There's nothing to count.' 'There were eleven on the church roof on Tuesday. Mrs Pryce said so.' Marian handed over a mug and sat on the upturned crate, knees up, the way they used to sit on the back step of Gran's house in Hastings while the birds screamed round the chimney stacks.

'They always go in the night,' Nell said. 'Gran said you never see the leaving, only the gap afterwards.' 'Gran said a lot of things about birds that weren't true.' 'She said swifts sleep on the wing.' 'They do, though,' Marian admitted. 'Some of them.'

Then, from the hedge line, three dark shapes lifted over the hawthorn, drew into a tight wedge, and went south over the rooftops without a single wingbeat wasted. Neither of them spoke. Nell pushed the trowel upright into the soil, handle to the sky, the way their grandfather always left it, and the two of them watched until the birds were gone.

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