Traditional style colour tattoo of an astronaut giving a thumbs up above a banner reading Your Demons, with Fight Off above, on the upper arm.

Astronaut with Fight Off Your Demons banner

Traditional · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A cartoon astronaut in a white suit and red-striped helmet gestures with one hand raised, surrounded by small star shapes and a dark shaded background. The phrase FIGHT OFF sits above the figure and YOUR DEMONS runs along a cream banner across the bottom. Bold black outlines, flat red, orange, green and grey fills and soft shading give it a classic old-school look.

Traditional Upper arm Astronaut Banner Star Lettering Helmet

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The galley on the Brindle Wren smelled of burnt sugar and bleach, and at 0300 ship time it was mine alone. I had the kettle on and the bread proving under a damp cloth when Hollis backed through the hatch hauling a crate of tinned peaches and swearing at the seal, the way he had sworn at everything since Ganymede.

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Above the hotplate, somebody had painted an astronaut on the bulkhead years before my time. He was chubby in his suit, one glove raised as if he were hailing a cab. FIGHT OFF curved over his helmet, and YOUR DEMONS ran along a cream banner at his knees, the paint gone the colour of weak tea. Morwenna, who cooked here before me, said it was a joke about the rum ration. Nobody believed her, and nobody scrubbed it off either.

Hollis set the crate down and asked what I was afraid of. Not the hull, he said, everybody says the hull. So I told him the thing I had never told anyone: it was the quiet between shifts, when the air handlers dropped and you could hear your own pulse ticking in the tin ceiling. He didn't laugh. He pulled a stool across, cut two slabs of the cold sponge, and we ate them with our fingers while the ship groaned around us like an old man getting out of bed.

When he had gone, I took a marker from the drawer and, very small, drew a star beside the astronaut's glove, the kind of three-pointed thing Morwenna used to doodle on the order slips. Then the proving bell rang. I pulled the loaves from the rack and realised I had stopped listening to the walls.