Black and grey traditional tattoos of Anubis holding an ankh and an Egyptian woman with arms raised, both on the forearms, with a winged scarab above.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Anubis and Egyptian woman on forearms

Traditional · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two forearms are shown, each carrying a black and grey tattoo. The left arm has Anubis, the jackal-headed figure, holding an ankh and a was sceptre beside a crescent moon, and the right arm has a stylised Egyptian woman with raised arms and a headdress, with a winged scarab above her and scarab beetles below. The solid outlines and smooth grey shading give the piece a bold, classic look against the plain skin and green grass background.

Traditional Forearm Ankh Crescent moon Headdress

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The wasps had got into the Victoria plums again by the time Maud sent me up the ladder, and she stood below with the ash-handled hook, counting baskets as if the trees owed her money. Late August in the Weald is all sticky fingers and cut grass, and the orchard smelled of windfalls turning to wine in the long grass. My job was the high branches. Hers was keeping me from falling.

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Maud's grandfather had planted the rows the year the hop kilns were built, and he had told her the ground was older than the apples. There was a watchman, he said, with a long-snouted head like a jackal's and a crook in one hand, who walked the rows when the moon was only a paring. He weighed each fallen fruit on a brass pan and took the bad ones away. A woman with her arms raised kept the beetles off the stones, so the rot could not reach the roots. Maud said it was nonsense, then left a ripe plum on the orchard wall every night anyway.

On the last evening of the month I found a green stone in the press bed, scarab-shaped, worn smooth as a thumb. I held it up to her and she didn't laugh.

The next morning the windfalls were gone from under every tree, and the plum on the wall had been picked clean to the stone. Maud looked at the baskets, then at the thin moon hanging over the kilns, and said nothing at all. I kept the scarab in my pocket all winter, warm when I touched it.