Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Two reaching hands on a forearm
Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo
The tattoo shows two hands stretched towards each other, one from the left and one from the right, with a small gap between the fingertips. The linework is fine and delicate, with soft grey shading across the knuckles and fingers to give the hands form. The ink is black and grey on pale skin, and the small design sits centrally on the forearm against a plain background.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Frank Harrow had taught the Tuesday waltz at the Pier Ballroom for nineteen years, and in all that time he had never let his hand touch Marjorie Dunn's before the music told him to. Tonight the band was tuning up in the gallery, a cornet wheezing through the same flat note, and the floor was already scattered with couples practising the box step under the paper lanterns.
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She was late. He could tell from the way the side door kept swinging, letting in cold air off the promenade and then clapping shut again. He stood by the piano with his hands behind his back, the way his mother had stood at the church gate, and pretended to read the notice board about the Christmas raffle.
When she finally came in, she did not look at him. She crossed to the bandstand, took the bandleader's pencil from behind his ear without asking, and wrote something on the back of the programme. Then she held it up so the whole room could see, a single line in capitals: TUESDAY, NOT TONIGHT. He understood only after the band had struck up and the couples had begun to turn that she meant she would not dance with him yet, and that she had been counting the weeks since the spring he had stopped asking.
He crossed the floor anyway. At the edge of the boards he raised his right hand to the height of her shoulder, not touching, fingers open and a finger's width from hers as she lifted her own. They stayed like that through a whole chorus, the gap between them the only thing in the room that did not move in time.
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