Fine line black vine tattoo with small curls and scrolls on a woman's ankle, above gold metallic heels.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Vine scroll tattoo on an ankle

Fine line · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

A woman's ankle and lower leg carry a small black tattoo of a thin vine with curling scrolls and tendrils. The linework is fine and even, in solid black ink with no visible shading. The leg rests against a pink upholstered surface, and the wearer has on gold metallic pointed-toe heels.

Fine line Botanical Ankle Vine Scroll Tendril Curl

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The vines had been growing up the back of Nan's greenhouse since before anyone thought to ask what they were called. Marjorie Pell kept the key on a loop of string round her wrist and let the three cousins in one at a time, each of them promising not to touch the cuttings. Her grandson Dougie went straight for the bench of tiny pots, and she caught his sleeve before he could tip one over.

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The tendrils were the thing. Nobody in the family could agree on the right word for how they curled, only that they reached for whatever was nearest and held on. Marjorie had been wrapping the new shoots around bamboo canes for forty years, and the old wire ties had gone green and sunk into the wood. She pointed at a loose length near the door and told Dougie to fetch the scissors from the tin on the shelf, because if it was left to climb the frame it would take the whole gutter with it by spring.

He came back with the scissors and a question about his mum, and she answered it while she worked, snipping one curl free and handing it to him. It was lighter than she expected, still soft at the tip, and it had already coiled itself round his finger before he thought to shake it off. Marjorie laughed and said that was exactly why nobody was allowed to grow anything in this house without a plan.

She hung the spare cutting on a nail above the sink, where the light came through the glass in long thin lines. It would root in a jar of water by the weekend, and by August it would be climbing something new.