Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Woman in profile with flowing hair

Other · Black and grey · Photo

A woman's face is shown in profile, turned to the right, with her hair swept back in loose, flowing strokes. The linework is loose and sketchy, with soft grey shading that fades into the skin. The design is in black and grey on pale, slightly reddened skin, and the tattoo fills most of the frame.

Other Woman Profile Portrait Hair Face

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The wind came off the fen every evening at the turn of the tide, and every evening Mery Hollis went down to the sluice gate to meet it with her hair loose. Her mother had told her that a wind which finds a woman with her hair pinned up will take her pins and then her name. So she let it run. It pulled the dark strands back from her forehead and along her neck, streaming out behind her like smoke off a wet fire, and she laughed into it because nobody else in Cutter's Reach would.

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One autumn a stranger came up the causeway on a grey horse, a man in a wool coat sent to survey the new drain. He watched her from the bank for three evenings without speaking. On the fourth he asked what she was doing, and she said she was letting the wind read her. He said he had a pencil and would like to draw what it wrote. She told him the wind wrote fast and would not hold still for a man with a pencil.

He drew her anyway, in quick dark strokes that never lifted from the paper, so that her face came out sideways, looking ahead at something the page did not show, and her hair ran off the edge of the sheet into nothing. When he showed her, she saw that the wind had been caught, but only the part of it that was going somewhere. She folded the drawing into her apron.

The surveyor left at the first frost. In spring the sluice gate was finished and the wind no longer came down the fen the way it had, so Mery went up to the new bank to look for it. She never found it there. But on the sheet she kept, the hair still streamed off into the margin, and on windy nights she took it out and held it up to the open door, and the paper rattled as if it were trying to get free.