Colour traditional-style tattoo on a thigh showing a cartoon woman in a red polka dot bandana and glasses, flexing one arm in front of an orange sun, with a red rose below and a quote in black

Cartoon flexing woman and rose on a thigh

Traditional · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A cartoon woman in glasses and a red polka dot bandana flexes one arm in front of an orange sun, with a large red rose with a dark centre and teal leaves beneath her. A black curved line of lettering reads I AM A SMART, STRONG, SENSUAL WOMAN around the upper edge of the sun. Bold black outlines, flat fills and soft shading give it a classic neo-traditional look, shown in bright colour on the outer thigh.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Imogen, the salvage crew brought up the hatch panel from Sector Nine yesterday, and I have been sat at the galley table with it since, trying to decide whether it is a map or a joke. A woman in round black spectacles and a red spotted headscarf flexes one arm up beside her head, as if someone has just told her the crate is too heavy. Behind her burns a sun the colour of marmalade. Below her sits a rose big enough to feed the drainage crew, its heart painted black and threaded with gold.

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Round the top, in capitals, someone has written I AM A SMART, STRONG, SENSUAL WOMAN. The grammar has been nagging at me all morning, because the word a is doing nothing in the first half and everything in the second. Okonedo wants the frame stripped for the copper pins and the board fed to the recycler by the next tide. I told him the panel has been in the dark for three hundred years, and it has survived two floods, a rat colony and your uncle's attempt at varnish. Nobody scraps a thing that stubborn without asking it a question first.

I asked it one. Under the varnish, in the corner where the paint has worn to bare grain, there are the initials M.K. and a date in the old calendar. I checked the ledger from the first habitat. Marisol Kade ran the seed bank, and she signed off every crate with a rose stamp. The ledger calls her the only person aboard who ever argued with the engineers and won.

I have hung the panel above the galley hatch, where the morning lamp strikes the sun and turns it orange. The woman on it is still flexing at the ceiling, and I find I am standing a little straighter when I pass her. Come home at the solstice and see for yourself. Bring the good tea, and do not let Okonedo near the frame.

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