Small black spider tattoo on the upper chest, just above the neckline of a white t-shirt.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Black spider tattoo on upper chest

Chest · Black and grey · Photo

A small black spider is tattooed on the upper chest, near the base of the neck. The spider has a rounded body and long, thin legs, rendered in solid black ink with little visible shading. The skin is warm-toned and the tattoo sits against a plain white t-shirt, with a pale background behind the shoulder.

Chest Spider Insect

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The tin of condensed milk had sat on the top shelf since Valparaíso, and Edie Marrable only noticed the spider when she reached for it at six bells. It rested on the lid, a small black thing with a rounded body and legs as long and thin as sewing thread, perfectly still in the lamplight. Somewhere below her the engines thudded on, and the galley smelt of onions and wet canvas.

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She should have flicked it into the sink. Instead she set the tin on the steel counter and watched it. The cook's rule aboard the Kestrel Dawn was that nothing alive went over the side until the bosun had seen it, and Ned Okafor was asleep in his bunk after the night watch. So Edie fetched a jam jar, a folded tea towel and a cup of cold coffee she did not want, and waited.

The spider did not run. When she tipped the tin, it simply walked to the edge and climbed onto the towel as though it had been expecting her. She carried it up the companionway into the grey morning, past the wheelhouse where the second mate was humming, and out to the rail. Gulls wheeled over a sea the colour of pewter. She shook the towel, and the spider stepped off onto the wind, legs spread like rigging, and was gone.

Back in the galley the milk was where she had left it, the lid dented. Edie opened it, stirred the coffee, and found she was smiling for no reason she could name. Ned came in yawning ten minutes later and asked what she was grinning at. She told him it was nothing, only a passenger leaving.