Flash design of a black swirling vine with blue, pink and purple butterflies, purple flowers, green leaves and three script names, shown without a body placement.

Butterfly and flower vine with three script names

Botanical · Mixed · Flash

A tattoo design drawing of a black vine that winds diagonally up the page, with three butterflies in blue, pink and purple and several five-petalled purple flowers. Three script names sit along the vine, and small dark green leaves and curled tendrils fill the gaps. The linework is bold and smooth, with the butterfly wings softly shaded and the design set on a plain white background.

Botanical Butterfly Flower Vine Leaf Swirl Script Name

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The bindweed had found the greenhouse again by the time Ruth got back from the hospital, its stems feeling along the glass for a gap. She should have pulled it. Instead she stood in the wet doorway with her coat still on and watched the vine climb the cane frame she had built the summer the girls were small, curl after curl, as neat as handwriting.

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Three canes stood in the bed by the door, each with a name burned into it using the hot poker from the shed. Marguerite, Joan, Wren. Ruth had done the lettering herself the year Joan left for Leeds and Wren sulked for a week over a lost hair ribbon. She had meant to let the vine wind up each cane in turn, one name at a time, until the whole frame was furred with purple flowers like small stars fallen out of a dark sky.

Alf had called it foolishness. He was asleep in the front room now under the blanket she had folded for him that morning, and the house ticked quietly around him. She lifted the secateurs from their hook and then set them down again. The vine had its own reasons. Joan's cane was thick with leaves, and Wren's was only beginning. Marguerite's was bare at the top, where the stems had gone looking for something to hold.

Ruth knelt in the damp soil and tied a loose loop of twine round the empty top of that cane. Then she sat back on her heels and waited. It was nearly dark when a pale blue butterfly drifted in through the open vent, dipped twice over the bed, and settled on the twine as if it had been expected all along.