Traditional style flash design of a black panther with yellow eyes and a red rose, set against a torn pink and red background.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Black panther and rose flash design

Traditional · Colour · Flash

A drawing of a snarling black panther with yellow eyes and a pink nose, its head emerging through a torn red and pink opening. A red rose with green leaves sits at the lower left, and the panther's clawed paw curls near the rose. Bold black outlines and flat fills of black, red, pink, green and yellow are set against a white backdrop.

Traditional Panther Rose Leaves Torn skin Claw

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rent book is due on Friday, and Mrs Hosking has already told you twice that the room over the scullery is not fit for a gentleman. You say you are no gentleman, only a lodger who can paint, and she sniffs at the damp patch above the bed as though it were your doing. The sea has been seeping under the front door all week. Gull Rest smells of tar, boiled cabbage and the pink soap she buys by the crate from a man in Poole.

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Behind the wardrobe, where the wallpaper has lifted, you find a painted board. Someone before you has drawn a black panther tearing out of a red cloth, its yellow eyes fixed on a red rose, its clawed paw curled round the stem. The outlines are bold and the green leaves are still bright, as if the varnish dried only yesterday. You work a thumbnail under the paper and the plaster beneath is the colour of the inside of a shell.

That evening Mrs Hosking climbs the stairs with a candle and stands in the doorway, watching you hold the board against the lamp. She tells you the last man who lodged here was a sign-painter called Teague, who left owing eleven weeks and a bag of brushes. He painted the cat, she says, to frighten the rats. You ask whether it worked. She says the rats left on the Tuesday, and so did he.

In the morning you hang the board over the sink, where the light from the yard reaches it. You pay the rent from your own purse, counting the coins onto her palm one by one. Before you walk down to the harbour you leave the rose on the windowsill, its stem standing in a jam jar of seawater, for whoever takes the room next.