Black and grey photograph of a fine line botanical tattoo of two flowers with curling vines on the inner forearm near the wrist.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Two flowers and vines on a wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows two lily-like flowers with petals drawn in outline, joined by thin curling vines that trail down the forearm. The linework is fine and dark, with light shading inside the petals. The image is black and white, and the tattoo sits diagonally across the forearm beside a hand with dark painted nails.

Fine line Botanical Forearm Flower Lily Vine Swirl 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

Nell Haskard kept the lilies in a tin bucket under the canopy at Carrow Junction, and on the Thursdays the 4.12 to Halden ran late she let me carry two stems down to the far platform wrapped in yesterday's paper. I was twelve and the job paid in sherbet lemons. The lilies had come up from her allotment, their petals outlined in a darker green than the leaves, and she said the trick was to leave them alone until they wanted you.

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The woman waiting by the bench had a suitcase with one wheel missing and a habit of counting the ironwork scrolls on the canopy. She took the flowers without looking at them. 'Tell Nell they'll keep if she trims the ends,' she said, and when the train came round the curve she didn't get on it. She stood with the stems in one hand and the other pressed flat to the cold glass of the waiting room door, as though the glass might tell her something the timetable wouldn't.

Nell never asked where the lilies went. She sold the rest of the bucket to the Halden bus driver every Friday and chalked the prices on a slate that hung by the urn. When the junction was shut and the canopy taken down for scrap, I found a slip of paper tucked behind the slate. It had a name on it, a date in April, and a line of pencil that curled off the edge like a vine looking for a wall.

I still have the slip. Nell's handwriting was the only thing at Carrow that never ran late.