Fine line black tattoo of a sitting cat beneath a crescent moon, with a dotted trail curling down behind a person's ear.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cat and crescent moon behind the ear

Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo

A small black tattoo of a cat sitting and facing up towards a crescent moon sits behind the ear of a person with dark hair pulled back. Fine, delicate linework outlines the cat, and a trail of dots and a loose curl run down from the cat towards the neck. The tattoo is in black ink only, set against a soft-focus background of skin and hair.

Fine line Other Cat Crescent moon Dot Swirl Star

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The plums have been dropping since dusk, one at a time, each landing in the long grass with a soft thud you hear before anyone else does. You have been listening to them from the top of the orchard wall, because the wall is the only place at Hollins Farm where the wind cannot find you. Below, the ladder leans against the Victoria tree where old Mrs Tully left it, and her grandson has not come back for it.

Keep reading

The moon rises thin over the hedge, pared like a fingernail. You watch it climb and think, as cats do, that it is following you. Each time a windfall splits, a scatter of wasps lifts and settles again, and the dim gold of the orchard seems to lift with them, a trail of small lights running down the rows towards the cottage and its open kitchen window.

Tomorrow the pickers come with their baskets and their radios, and the wall will be full of boots. Tonight belongs to you. You stretch, slow and deliberate, and drop into the grass, and the stalks part around you like a curtain. Your tail flicks once, then twice, a question nobody has asked.

You choose the nearest plum, bruised and sweet, and carry it back through the dark to the kitchen step, where a saucer of milk has been left out for you. Someone has forgotten to switch off the light. By the time the pickers arrive, you will have eaten the best of the fruit, and the moon will have gone to bed behind the hill.