Black and grey geometric tattoo of a nested triangle with a mandala-style pattern, dotwork dangling dots and a teardrop, on the centre of a woman's chest.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Triangle and dotwork mandala on the chest

Dotwork · Chest · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a woman's upper chest, with the top of a dark open cardigan visible. The tattoo is a large triangle outline with a smaller triangle inside, filled with a symmetrical mandala-style pattern of fine lines. Below it, a curved chain of small dots and a single solid teardrop hang from a dotted arc. The design is entirely black ink on pale skin, with crisp linework and stippled dots.

Dotwork Geometric Chest Triangle Mandala Dot Teardrop Geometric pattern

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Ruth,

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The tin trunk came off the 4.10 train this morning, and I have put it in the back box room where the damp cannot get at the lining. The brass plate on the lid still reads Mr Thomas Ashby, Lodger, so I have not opened it. You said to send everything, but I think you should decide what to keep, not me, and certainly not the carrier who wanted three shillings for the handcart.

Inside the top tray, under a pile of tide tables, I found a brass compass and a sheet of squared paper covered in circles. Every circle had a triangle pricked into its centre, and every triangle was filled with the same lace of fine lines, as though he had been trying to fit one flower into a shape that would not hold it. Beneath the sheets lay a small pendant on a chain of dots, with a single black glass bead hanging from the bottom. He must have sewn it into his coat hem, because the thread was new.

I wrote to the harbour office, as you asked, and they say the Nelly Grace went down off the Skerries in March with all hands. Nobody has told me what he was doing out on a boat when he was meant to be sounding the cliffs for the council. Perhaps the answer is in the trunk, or perhaps it is only more squared paper. I have set the pendant on the sill of the front parlour, where the afternoon light comes through the bottle glass and throws the triangle across the floorboards in pieces. Come and look at it before you decide anything. The room is yours until Michaelmas.

Love, Edie