Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Black cat on a flowered crescent moon
Botanical · Black and grey · Flash
A black cat sits in silhouette on the inside curve of a crescent moon, with its tail curled up and pale eyes and whiskers picked out in white. The crescent is drawn in thin, fine black lines and is wrapped in solid black five-petal flowers, small leaves and curling tendrils. The design is pure black on a white background, with no shading or colour.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
You wake to find the cat already on the sill of the observation blister, sitting as if the station council had posted her there. Her name is Tallow, though nobody remembers who named her, and she has the rigid patience of a creature that knows the ring's air will hold a few more hours. Beyond the glass the crescent of the Halden Ring curves over the dark like a bent wire, and the vines you seeded in the spring have climbed its spine again, five-petalled blooms opening along the girders where the hydroponic bays meet the old lunar rail.
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Nobody before you has held this job. The gardeners who came before kept the vines trimmed back from the lamps, but the engineers discovered that the roots were holding the hull's microfractures closed, so you were told to let them run. Each morning you walk the inner curve with a blade and a tin of sealant, cutting the tendrils that have grown into the wrong seams and leaving the rest. Tallow follows you along the rail, stopping wherever a leaf shivers, her eyes pale as the lamps.
On the forty-first day no alarm sounded, but the cat began to yowl at the bulkhead by the reactor shaft. You found a hairline crack breathing frost, and under the frost a vine had already wound itself into it, drawing the edges together like a stitch. You stood there longer than you should have, your gloves numb, understanding that the thing you had been told was a nuisance had been holding the station together all along.
When the relief shuttle docked, the new keeper asked what the cat was for. You told them the truth, which was that she had never been for anything, only sat on the moon's inside curve and watched the flowers do their work. Then you handed over the blade, lifted Tallow into your arms, and went home along the rail without looking back, the blooms opening behind you in the light.
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