Two pairs of small black fine line bird tattoos on the backs of two clasped hands, one with red nail polish.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Two small birds on clasped hands

Fine line · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

Two people hold hands, and each hand carries a small black tattoo of a bird in flight, with two birds shown across the two hands. The linework is thin and simple, with no shading, and the birds are drawn as minimal wing shapes. The ink is black against bare skin, and the close framing centres the tattoos on the clasped hands.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rain came sideways into Saltmarrow market that autumn, and by noon the stallholders had stopped cursing it and started selling it hot in paper cups. Old Nan Hesketh kept her eel stall under a sailcloth that leaked in two places, and she said the leaks were the only honest thing in the town.

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Her grandchildren, Ada and Wynn, were not honest in the same way. They fought over the tin cash box every morning and made up over the same pies every afternoon. One wet Thursday a grey woman with a basket of wrens came to the stall and asked for a penny's worth of ink. Nobody had seen her buy anything before, and nobody saw her leave.

She dipped a single pin in a brass pot and drew two small birds, each no more than a pair of wing strokes, one on Ada's hand and one on Wynn's. She told them the birds would fly to the other when the other was far away, and they would come home when the two hands met again. Ada laughed and Wynn didn't, and that was the trouble for a fortnight, until the day the river rose and Wynn was sent across the flooded bridge with the last of the cod.

When Wynn came back soaked to the bone, Ada was already at the bridge end with her palm held out, and their hands met over the brown water. The ink was dry and black, and the rain went on and on, but neither of them let go until the stallholders started singing rude songs to cheer them up.

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