Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Vertical geometric arrow with eye on neck
Geometric · Neck · Black and grey · Photo
A vertical arrow runs down the centre of the back of the neck, with a triangle containing an eye forming the arrowhead at the top and a stacked, angular fletching at the base. The linework is solid black with clean, hard-edged shapes and small internal details, and the tattoo is set against soft, evenly lit skin with fine hairs visible around it. The image is entirely black and grey, with the composition centred tightly on the tattoo.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The lift stopped between the ninth and tenth floors for the fourth time that Tuesday, and Maureen Okafor-Hale, who had kept the lifts at Caldwell House for nineteen years, sat on the cold landing with a torch in her teeth and listened to the cable hum above her. She had expected a fault code. What she found instead was a chalk arrow on the stairwell wall, pointing up, its head a neat triangle with a single eye drawn in the middle and its tail split into angled feathers. Someone had drawn one on every landing since the spring.
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Kit from flat fourteen was the one who had been told off for the chalk. He sat on the third step with his knees up and said the eye was for the lift, so it could see where it was going. Maureen told him lifts didn't need watching, they needed grease. He shrugged and said the arrows were pointing the way the lift should go, and she said that was a lovely idea and a terrible reason to block a stairwell. Then she followed the arrows up past the tenth floor to the machine room door, and the last arrow pointed straight at a brake housing gone soft with rust.
She spent two hours with a wedge and a spanner while the building went quiet around her. When she came back down, the lift was waiting at the ninth floor with its doors open, smooth as a held breath. Kit had gone. On the landing beneath the lift, where he had drawn his own arrow, she found a faint white smudge where he had tried to rub it out. Maureen took the chalk from her pocket and drew a fresh one beside it, feathers fanned wide, eye open, pointing up at the doors.
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