Black and grey dotwork tattoo of a small T-rex dinosaur held up by a cluster of outlined balloons, placed along the ribs.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Baby T-rex held aloft by balloons on ribs

Dotwork · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A small T-rex dinosaur, curled up with its tail trailing, is held aloft by four outlined balloons on long strings. The dinosaur's body is built from fine stippled dots that create soft grey shading, while the balloons and strings use clean single-line outlines. The design follows the curve of the ribcage, with the balloons arching over the top and the tail sweeping down towards the hip.

Dotwork Ribs Dinosaur Balloon String

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Tuesday, twenty to five. The ovens are warming and the proving cabinet ticks like a clock somebody forgot to wind. It is still black beyond the window over Pemberton Lane, and I have been up since half two with the sourdough. I am writing this on the back of an order sheet because my notebook is buried under forty kilos of rye.

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The dinosaur arrived at ten past four. I heard it before I saw it, a squeak of rubber knocking against the back door glass. When I opened up there were four balloons bumping the frame, and beneath them, turning slowly in the cold, a baby tyrannosaurus no longer than my forearm, curled up as if still waiting to hatch. Its tail had snagged on the drainpipe. Its strings ran up into nothing I could see. So I did what any sensible baker does and asked it what it wanted.

It wanted to be let go of, as far as I could tell. I freed the tail and the balloons lifted it politely towards the gutter, the way a kite goes when the wind has made up its mind. I turned to fetch the rye, and when I looked again the step was empty except for a fine silver dust that might have been stardust or might have been the icing sugar I always spill when I'm tired. Mrs Okonedo's wedding loaves go in at six. I've left the back door open a crack, just in case it comes home for breakfast.