Small black and grey yin yang tattoo on the inner ankle of a bare foot resting on white crumpled sheets.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Yin yang tattoo on an ankle

Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

Two bare feet rest on crumpled white sheets, with a small yin yang symbol tattooed on the inner ankle of the foot on the left. The circle is filled with solid black and grey shading, with a clean outline and simple, even edges. A thin beaded anklet is visible on the other ankle, and the soft natural lighting keeps the focus on the tattoo.

Ankle Yin yang Feet Ankle Anklet

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The sign painter came up from Doncaster on the Tuesday bus with a tin of lamp-black and a dented tin of whiting, and by Thursday the whole of Mill Lane knew he meant to paint a circle across the bakehouse door. Nobody on the lane had asked for it. My father and Mr Oakes had shared one brick wall and one flue since before the war, and since the spring they had shared nothing else, not even a word over the counter. The flour sacks were kept on opposite sides of the yard, and the children were told to cross the cobbles quickly.

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I held the chalk line for Mr Tennant while he drew the division, a long curve that bent back on itself like a river finding its own way. He wanted both men there to see it done. Dad came out wiping his hands on his apron and stood on the black side without being asked. Mr Oakes came out a minute later with a tea towel over one shoulder and stood on the white. Tennant dipped a brush, made a small dot in each half, and told them that every shape like this kept a little of its opposite in its heart. Dad snorted. Oakes looked at the grey speck in his own half for a long time.

The next morning the loaves came out of both ovens at once, and the smell of them ran down the lane together. I stood on the step with a basket and watched my father and Mr Oakes arguing over whose crust had split the better, their voices carrying over the yard. Neither of them moved away from the line. The paint was still tacky on the door, and the sun caught the two halves where they met, so that for a moment it looked as if the circle had been turning all night.