Black and grey abstract tattoo on an upper arm with two figures, a clock face, a flower and a vertical red stripe.

Abstract figures, clock and flower on upper arm

Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A photograph of a large sleeve-style tattoo on the upper arm of a person wearing a dark sleeveless top. The design combines two black and grey figures, a clock face with dial lines, a shaded flower at the lower end and faint fragments of writing, all overlapping with loose brushed splashes. A thin red vertical line and a red block run down the arm, and the composition is set against a dark background.

Upper arm Figure Clock Flower Text Abstract Sleeve

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The clock above the nurses' station on Ward Seven had stopped at ten to three, and nobody had asked facilities to fix it, because it was right twice a day and the night staff had come to rely on that. Tomas pushed the linen trolley past it, one wheel complaining, the red tape along the corridor floor flicking under his trainers like a line he had been warned not to cross.

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Agnieszka was at the desk with her reading glasses pushed up into her hair, writing up the chart for bay four. 'Mr Okafor wants to know if the peonies are real,' she said. 'I told him they came from the florist on Ferry Road, which is the truest thing I know tonight.' Tomas laughed, then looked properly at the vase. The stems were already dropping petals onto the blotter, pink going brown at the edges, and a note from a daughter lay folded beneath it, the ink smudged where someone had pressed too hard.

Near dawn Mr Okafor asked to be helped to the window. Tomas held his elbow and they watched the car park lamps go pale one by one, the sky behind the bins turning the grey of wet slate. The old man pointed at a figure walking a dog across the tarmac, two shapes moving together, one leaning toward the other, and said nothing for a long time.

At six Tomas went back to the desk. He took the clock off its hook, opened the back with a coin, set the hands by the phone in his pocket and hung it up again. It ticked once, hesitated, then went on, and Agnieszka wrote the time on the chart in her small square hand without looking up.