Colourful flower tattoo on the outer thigh with blue and pink petals, green leaves and bold black outlines.

Blue and pink flower on a thigh

Thigh · Colour · Photo

A stylised flower sits on the outer thigh, with a fan-shaped top of blue petals, pink streaks and a curling blue bloom below. Black outlines define the petals and a thin green stem ends in a pointed green leaf at the bottom. The soft, painterly shading blends blue, pink and green, and the design fills most of the frame against plain skin.

Thigh Flower Petal Stem Leaf Bloom

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mags Penhale kept the lamp-room at Carrow Pit, and when the cage stuck at the four-hundred-foot mark in the winter of the flood, she was the one who walked down the wet stairs with a bucket of hot tea and no idea what she would say to the men below. She said nothing. She set the bucket on the step and sang the only hymn she knew, badly, because the water was rising and somebody had to make a noise.

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Three days later the men came up through the north drift, blinking and grey-faced, and Tom Sallis carried a stem in his fist. It was a flower, he swore, growing in the dark where no light had ever reached, blue at the crown and pink in the streaks along its petals. The green leaf at its foot had pushed through a crack in the coal face like a hand feeling for a rope. Nobody believed him until the next morning, when the bloom was sitting on the lamp-room step with the dew still on it.

Mags carried it up to her kitchen and put it in a jam jar on the sill. It did not fade. Every time a man went below after that, he came back up with some scrap of colour on his coat, a pink smear on a cuff or a blue thread caught in a button, and the village decided the pit had taken up gardening.

The pit closed the year after. Mags died in the spring and the jar went to the chapel. The bloom still opens on the day a cage comes up safe, and children in Carrow count the petals before they dare go near the spoil heap. On the morning the last cage came up, every petal was open, and Tom's grandson swore the leaf had turned towards the sun as if it were learning the way out.