Black and grey photo of two small, fine-line snowflake tattoos on the inner wrist and forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Two small snowflakes on a wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two small black snowflake tattoos sit side by side on the skin of a forearm or wrist, photographed in greyscale against a dark background. The snowflakes are drawn with thin, even linework in solid black, with no shading. The composition is close and centred on the tattoos, with the arm running diagonally across the frame.

Fine line Geometric Forearm Snowflake

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nadia had been told the lift at Carrow House would be fixed by Friday, the same as it had been fixed by Friday every week since August. So she took the stairs with the shopping, counting landings, fourteen flights, the stairwell smelling of bleach and somebody's Sunday dinner. On the ninth floor the window had frosted over from outside, and someone had scraped a small clear patch in the glass with a key.

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Her brother Tomasz sat on the step below it, mittens on, his breath showing. "It's been snowing up top," he said. "Proper snow. I saw it go past the window." She didn't believe him until she looked up and saw flakes drifting through the gap in the frost, slow, not falling so much as deciding where to land.

Nobody in the block owned snow boots. Their mother had cut paper snowflakes every December at the kitchen table on the eleventh floor, folding the sheets into eighths and snipping with the good scissors she kept sharp for nothing else. Tomasz had asked her once why each one came out different when she folded them the same way. She had said that you never fold them the same way twice, not really, and he had believed her for a year.

Nadia took the square from her coat pocket, last year's, gone soft at the corners, and pressed it against the cold glass beside the scraped patch. Tomasz traced one arm of it with a finger. Down in the stairwell the lift grumbled and stopped somewhere below them, and the doors opened with their usual complaint, and the two of them stood still and waited to see whether anyone would come up to check on the snow.