Two small bird tattoos on wrists
Other · Black and grey · Photo
Two small black bird silhouettes sit on the inner wrists of two people, one tattoo on each arm. The birds are simple solid shapes in black ink with no visible shading or colour. The hands are held together in the frame, with the tattoos placed close to the centre of the image against a dark teal patterned fabric.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The bell for vespers has already gone when you reach the bird-house at the end of the cloister, and Brother Anselm is standing on the bottom rung of the ladder with a rag in one hand and a jar of linseed oil in the other. He does not turn round. He says the swifts have come back early this year and you will want to see them before they nest under the eaves, so you climb.
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From the top of the ladder the whole valley is going blue. The swifts are screaming over the mill pond, dozens of them, folding and dropping as if the air had holes in it. Anselm tells you they do not land for months at a time, that they sleep on the wing, and that a bird which touches the ground has usually come down to die. You ask him how he knows. He says a novice called Thomas told him, Thomas had it from the abbot's cook, and the cook had it from a shepherd, and none of them could ever prove it.
You stay until the light is nearly gone. When you come down your sleeves are grey with dust. Anselm takes the rag and, without asking, rubs a smear of soot from your knuckles. Then he hands you the jar and points at the stencil he has cut for the new roof boards: two small birds, wings raised, each no bigger than a thumbnail.
Paint them where the bell rope will not catch them, he says. Then go and tell Brother Ilse the cloister lamps are out again.
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