Small black fine line and dotwork tattoo of two mushrooms on the side of a bare knee against a pale grey background.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Two mushrooms on the side of a knee

Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows two small mushrooms on tall, thin stalks, one larger than the other, with the caps shaded using fine dots and short radiating lines. The linework is delicate and kept to black ink, with the stalks drawn as single fine strokes. The small design sits alone in the centre of the frame on the side of a leg, with soft, even lighting and a plain backdrop.

Fine line Dotwork Other Mushroom

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The frost came down early that year, and Mabel Pryce was still in the bottom field when the light went, kneeling by the drystone wall with a lantern she had not yet lit. Her father had sent her for the ewes. The ewes had found the gap in the wall and gone through it, and now there was only the wall, the stubble, and a patch of pale ground under the hedge where two mushrooms had pushed up through the cold.

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The larger one stood a hand taller than the smaller, its cap shaded in fine lines like the ribs of an umbrella left out in the rain. Her grandmother had called these little parasols and told her never to pick them, because the fairies sat under them after dark and would take it poorly. Mabel had never seen a fairy. She had seen her grandmother's hands go still over the stove when a stranger said the name of their village wrong, and she had learned from that what sort of things were best left alone.

She lit the lantern at last and followed the ewes' tracks through the gap, and found them in the lee of the barn, steaming and furious. She counted them twice in the lamplight and got the number right the second time. On the way back she passed the hedge again. The caps had not moved, but the frost had settled on them evenly, like flour on a board, and she saw that the smaller stalk leaned toward the larger one, as if listening.

Her father asked where she had been so long. She said she had been minding the ewes, which was true, and that the little one was sheltering under the big one, which he did not understand and did not ask about. Next morning she went back with the trowel in her pocket. She did not dig them up. She set a flat stone beside them, so the frost would know whose they were, and went home before the light.