Colour realism sleeve tattoo on an upper arm showing a roulette wheel, playing cards, red dice and poker chips beneath a desert sky with a cactus.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Casino sleeve with roulette and dice

Realism · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A full sleeve tattoo shows a roulette wheel at the centre, with the cards J, Q, K and A fanned in front and red dice at the lower edge. Poker chips, a martini glass and a cactus silhouette sit against a sunset sky with birds. Shading is smooth and realistic, with strong highlights on the dice and chips, and the wraparound composition runs around the arm.

Realism Upper arm Playing card Dice Cactus Bird

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mind the third stair, it gives under a heavy man, and it has never once forgiven my father for that. Sit where the lamp reaches so you can see the wheel. Your great-uncle Alfie carried it up from the Golden Mile in a fish crate the summer of nineteen fifty-one, a roulette wheel with a brass spindle and numbers painted on by a sign-writer from Preston who wanted paying in cash and got it. Thirty-seven slots, every one of them a sin, he used to say.

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We ran the back parlour after the last tea was cleared. Lodgers paid a shilling to sit in, and the card table had a green baize cloth that smelt of Brylcreem and gull feathers. Alfie dealt the jack, queen, king and ace face up in a fan, the way a man on a postcard from Nevada had dealt them in a photograph he'd pinned above the sideboard. There was a cactus printed on the back of that card, and a sunset the colour of a bad bruise, and birds going home over the hills. Alfie said the desert was the only place a man could lose his shirt without the tide coming in to watch.

Six weeks in, a commercial traveller in a camel coat put the whole boarding house on the ace. Alfie had nothing else left to put down. The wheel spun, the ivory ball chattered past the 32 and the 26 and the 2, and the room held its breath while the dice rolled off the baize and across the floorboards like two red gulls shot out of the sky. Ones, both of them. Snake eyes, said the traveller, and laughed as if he'd been paid for it.

Alfie picked up his hat and went down to look at the sea. I found him there in the morning, sitting on the sea wall with his cold hand shut tight, and when I prised his fingers open there was one chip inside, its gold gone grey with salt.