Back view of a person in a studded leather vest with a black spotted pattern tattoo on the upper arm and smaller tattoos on the forearm and hand.

Black spotted tattoo on upper arm

Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

The photograph shows a person seen from behind, wearing a studded leather vest, black leather trousers and fingerless gloves. A black ink tattoo of scattered spots or dots covers much of the upper arm, with a smaller tattoo visible on the forearm and wrist. The image is mostly black and grey, with a plain light grey wall behind the subject.

Upper arm Forearm Hand Spots Dot Animal print Arm tattoo

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The leopard had been dead a fortnight when Mrs Ada Pring insisted the show go on, so Wilf Corrigan sat up through the rain with a pot of Indian ink and a camel-hair brush and dotted a grey lurcher from nose to tail until it looked like the real thing. Wind drove the wet across the fairground at Morecambe. Every spot had to be the same size, he told her, or the crowd would know.

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By seven the dog was a passable leopard in the lamplight, rosettes running from shoulder to hip, and the cloth came off the cage for the early crowd. Ada stood at the rope with one hand on the bars and told the story she always told, that the cat had come off a Bengal steamer in the year of the great storm and had never once slept on a bed. Nobody argued. A boy in a flat cap asked whether it bit.

It was the lurcher that gave the game away. Halfway through the afternoon it stood, shook itself hard, and a fine black spatter flew off its flanks and freckled the boy's cap. He looked at the stain, then at the dog, then at Ada, and grinned as though he had been let into a secret worth keeping.

That night Wilf scrubbed the cage and found the brush left standing in the pot, its bristles splayed like a fan. He did not paint the dog again. Ada took the lurcher to bed with her, and the spots rubbed off on the pillowslip, which she said was the only honest thing about the whole fair.