White ink tattoo of a vertical arrow with chevron barbs and a diamond lattice on the inner forearm, in a fine line geometric style.

White ink arrow on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A vertical arrow with angled chevron barbs runs down the forearm, with a stacked diamond lattice set across its middle section. The lines are thin and even, rendered in white ink that stands out only slightly against the pale skin, and the design is centred on the forearm against a plain background. The image is a close, straight-on photograph in soft natural light.

Fine line Geometric Forearm Arrow Chevron Diamond Lattice Geometric pattern

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody on the ninth floor of Marsh Tower had noticed the arrow until the lift broke that winter, but Mrs Okafor's grandson swore it had been painted on the stairwell wall since the flats went up. It pointed down, always down, toward the bins and the car park and the bus stop on Calder Road. The children were told that anyone who followed it came back up with whatever they had lost.

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Tomasz, who lived above the laundry room with a radio and a grey cat called Pennant, followed it one wet Tuesday. He had lost his keys, his job at the depot and most of his patience. The arrow led him past the bins, under the flyover and into a yard where a woman sat on an upturned crate sorting buttons into tins. She did not look up. She said the diamonds were for the places a person could sit down and not be found, and that the arrow pointed where it did because somebody had to wait at the bottom for the others.

He asked her what he was supposed to do with that. She tipped a tin toward him, and among the buttons lay a ring of brass keys, every one of them labelled in pencil with a name. Tomasz found his own tag without looking hard. She told him the arrow would keep pace with him all the way home if he did not stop to argue.

He climbed the nine flights with the keys in his fist. On each landing the chevrons caught the strip light, and each time he glanced back the barbs had turned a little more toward his door. At the top, the arrow on the wall had stopped pointing down. It pointed at him, and his own coat pocket was already heavy with the right key.