Fine line drawing of two open hands reaching towards each other in black ink on a white background, shown as a tattoo design rather than on skin.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Two open hands in fine line

Fine line · Black and grey · Flash

The drawing shows two open hands, one slightly above and to the right of the other, with the fingers spread and the palms facing the viewer. The outlines are thin, single-weight black lines with a few short strokes marking the palms and knuckles, and there is no shading. The design sits centred on a plain white background with a lot of empty space around it.

Fine line Hand Palm Finger

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Brother Osric had been told twice that his hands shook, and by the third bell on the feast of Saint Edith he had stopped arguing and started counting. Ten fingers, two palms, the ink still lodged under his nails from a winter of copying the psalter. The abbot wanted a binding for the new gospel before Lent, and Osric had said yes before he thought about the cost.

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The fen frost cracked the mill race that week. He worked in the warming room, stretching calfskin over oak boards while the brothers passed the open door in pairs, heads down, sleeves tucked. Brother Wystan, who kept the bees, came in once with a honeycomb wrapped in linen and set it on the bench without a word. He stood there with his palms turned up, as if carrying an invisible loaf, and Osric understood he was being asked something. Could a man with unsteady hands be trusted with anything sweet? He laughed, and the laugh steadied him.

He finished the spine on the last night of the month. The leather was dark as wet earth and the stitching ran true along the boards. In the morning he carried the book across the frozen court to the chapter house, where the abbot sat with his hands folded over his belly. Osric lifted the gospel with both palms beneath it, the way a man lifts a bird he means to let go.

The abbot took it and weighed it, remarking that it was heavy. Osric answered that it was meant to be. He let his hands fall open at his sides, empty for the first time in weeks, and found that they no longer shook.