Colour tattoo of an animated female character with wavy blonde hair and blue eyes, with small blue flowers on her shoulder, on the forearm.

Animated princess portrait on a forearm

Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A cartoon-style portrait of a female character with swept blonde hair, blue eyes and rosy cheeks, shown in three-quarter view with a smile. Bold black outlines define the hair and features, and the skin, hair and clothing are filled with soft pastel shading in yellow, lilac, pink and turquoise. The portrait fills the forearm, with a lilac and teal garment and small blue flowers detailing the shoulder, and part of a sneaker and dark trousers visible at the edge of the frame.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody in Little Skerrow ever asked why the ice house stayed cold in July. Mrs Dorothy Vance kept the key on a ribbon round her neck, lilac gone grey with age, and she turned it every morning before the bakers were up.

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Her niece Peggy came to stay the summer the fishing boats went out and never came back. She was fourteen, with a plait she wound up like a golden rope and a temper like the sea in March. On the third day she found a cupboard under the stairs full of tins, each painted with a different flower, and inside each tin a single boiled sweet the colour of a winter sky.

"You'll break your teeth," Dorothy said, plucking one from her fingers. "Those were your grandfather's. He made them for a girl who sang to the gulls."

Peggy said the gulls couldn't be sung to. Dorothy said that was exactly the trouble, and went back to her ice. By the end of August the harbour had frozen at its edges, the moored boats sat in silver rims, and the postman had taken to wearing mittens on his bicycle. Peggy sat on the cold steps of the ice house with the last tin in her lap and the sweets gone to mint and blue dust on her tongue. She opened her mouth and sang the only song she knew, a wobbly thing about a kettle, and the gulls came down one by one onto the rail to listen.

The frost let go of the harbour wall by dinner time. Dorothy came out with her key swinging and found her niece asleep against the door, the empty tin beside her, and a small blue flower of ice melting on her sleeve.

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