Fine line black tattoo of two small geometric arrows running down the inner forearm near the wrist.

Two geometric arrows on the inner forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A photograph of two small arrows tattooed side by side on the inner forearm, each with a triangular head, stacked triangular fletching and a tapering tail. The linework is thin and dark black, with no shading, and the design sits on the wrist side of the forearm with the hand relaxed below. The image has a warm teal colour cast and a plain sofa and jeans in the background.

Fine line Geometric Forearm Arrow Triangle Geometric shape

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The lift in Cressy House had been dead since Easter, so every evening my brother and I climbed the stairs with the shopping between us, counting landings out loud because counting was the only thing that kept Dev going. On the ninth landing someone had drawn two arrows on the breeze block wall in marker pen, one above the other, their heads pointing down towards the car park. Dev said they were ours. I said they belonged to the council and he could stop being soft about it.

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The summer he went to Leeds for college, I started taking the stairs alone. I stopped counting. I went up with my hand on the rail, past the arrows, and some days I stopped there and pressed my palm flat over the lower one, which had faded more than the top one, as if the wall might give it back to me.

In October the lift came back, a laminated sign taped to the door saying it had been mended. I rode it to the eleventh floor, stood in the corridor with my bag and nothing to carry, and then walked back down all eleven flights. On the ninth landing someone had gone over the arrows in fresh black ink, sharper, the tails straightened. Dev had come home the weekend before and done it with a felt tip, the way he used to, then gone back to Leeds without saying a word.

I dug the marker out of my coat pocket, the one I had carried since August for no good reason, and drew a third arrow beside the other two, same length, same stacked feathers, all three pointing down towards the car park and the bus that would take me to his door.