Colour tattoo of a betta fish with teal, purple and pink flowing fins on the upper chest, covered in clear wrap.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Betta fish tattoo on the upper chest

Chest · Colour · Photo

A betta fish with long, flowing teal, purple and pink fins is tattooed on the upper chest near the shoulder. The fins are rendered with soft shading and fine streaks of colour, and the fish's body has a purple outline with a small dark eye. The tattoo is covered in clear plastic wrap, and a grey top and a car seat are visible around it.

Chest Fish Fin

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The jar had slid to the edge of the galley shelf for the third time that night, and Ronnie Tate caught it one-handed as the Constance dropped off a swell south of Spurn Head. Inside, the betta turned a slow circle, its fins folded like wet silk. Ronnie had bought him from a pet counter in Cleethorpes for four pounds. The lad behind the till had said they fight their own reflections until they drop, and Ronnie had thought that sounded like a fish worth keeping on a boat.

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Skipper Hale had no time for pets aboard. Fish was for eating or for selling, he said, so the jar lived wedged behind the kettle where nobody would knock it. Through the long crossing the fish did nothing but drift. Ronnie watched it by the lamp while the nets came up empty again and again, the hull groaning, the sea talking under the boards as if it had a grudge.

By first light the wind had dropped and the water lay flat and pewter-grey. Hale was shouting at the winch man, and nobody was looking at the galley. Ronnie lifted the lid and tipped a little warm water from the kettle into the jar to be sure it was still alive. The betta rose, flared its gills, and then, slowly, opened its fins. Teal and violet and a streak of pink unfolded in the dull light, long and trailing, like a flag shaken out after a week of rain.

Ronnie carried the jar out to the stern and set it on the rail. "Go on, then," he said. The fish hung there in the cold air above the wake, showing off to nobody but the gulls, and for once the grey morning had something in it worth looking at.