Black and white photo of a fine line tattoo of two birds perched on a wire with a small heart above, on the side of a person's ribs.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Two birds on a wire with heart on ribs

Fine line · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows two small birds sitting close together on a single horizontal wire, with a small solid heart above them. The linework is thin and clean, with the birds drawn in simple outline and the heart filled in solid black. The photo is in black and white and shows two angles of the same tattoo on the side of the torso, with the tattoo placed centrally on the ribs.

Fine line Ribs Bird Wire Heart

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The wire had been strung between the two lorries since August, and by October the swallows had decided it belonged to them. Every evening they lined up along it like punters waiting at the bar of the Rose and Crown, close enough that their feathers touched. Mr Abel Hesketh said birds on a working rig were bad luck. I told him the rig hadn't worked since the big top went to the council for scrap, so luck was hardly our problem.

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We had been nine acts once. Now there were four of us: a clown who sold raffle tickets to pay for the diesel, a grey mare who would no longer go in the ring, Abel, and me, holding the balance pole while he tried the line for the sake of a man from the Gazette who wanted a photograph. Abel's knees said no. The wire said no. The swallows sat there regardless, and so did I, with the pole across my palms and the taste of cold tea in my mouth.

On the last night of the season Abel stepped out at dusk, pole steady, and stopped halfway. He didn't fall. He stood looking down at a pair of birds that had come to rest almost against his boot, and he laughed the way he used to before his hip went. Then he walked the rest of the way across as though he were crossing his own kitchen to fetch the kettle. At the far end he tapped the wire twice with one finger, and the swallows lifted all together and settled again, closer than before, beneath the small heart Ruth had scratched into the pole the summer she left.