Fine line black ink outline of a Totoro-style creature on the ankle, with a small black line and round motif below it on a second ankle, shown beside maroon sneakers.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Totoro outline on an ankle

Fine line · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

The top photo shows a black fine line outline of a rounded creature with pointed ears and whiskers, placed on the outer ankle above a maroon canvas sneaker. The lower photo shows a second small black tattoo on the other ankle, a thin curved line ending in a small round motif. The linework is clean and even, with no shading or colour, and the subject is framed against a dark tiled floor.

Fine line Ankle Totoro Creature Outline Line drawing

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mrs Abernethy kept the lost property box at the back of the station, and every October someone brought her an umbrella that was not theirs. This year it was a grey one with a bent rib, handed across the counter by a man who swore he had found it on the platform at Hollin Halt, tucked under the bench where the hedge comes right up to the rails.

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"It was wet," he said, "and it was humming."

She had heard that before. Her grandmother used to leave a saucer of rice cakes at the foot of the camphor tree behind the signal box, and the saucer was always empty by morning, though nobody in the village owned a cat that cared for rice. Her grandmother called the thing in the hedge Mr Grey, which was not its name, but it answered to it well enough.

That night Mrs Abernethy wrapped herself against the wind, carried the saucer down the embankment and set it under the tree. The roots were dripping. Something shifted in the dark there, a soft heap of moss with a belly that rose and fell, and a low note came out of it like a kettle thinking about boiling. She did not look straight at it. Her grandmother had taught her that much.

In the morning the saucer was clean and the grey umbrella stood open beneath the camphor, its bent rib straightened. Along the wet mud of the platform ran a line of small round prints, each one pressed beside a neat curve of a trail, as though something had waited at every bench for a train that never came, then turned back towards the hedge.