Pencil drawing of a tattoo flash design showing a cat in a top hat and bow tie inside a beaded oval cameo frame, with a rose and leaves below, on a sepia sheet of paper.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cat in top hat cameo with rose, pencil flash

Neo-trad · Black and grey · Flash

A pencil drawing on paper shows a cat wearing a top hat and bow tie, framed inside an oval cameo with a beaded border. A rose and several leaves sit below the frame, drawn in fine outline with soft shading on the fur and hat. The sepia-toned photograph shows a pencil and an antique clock on the desk around the sheet.

Neo-trad Botanical Cat Top hat Bow tie Cameo Rose Leaves Bead Pencil drawing

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The hat had hung on the byre door since the spring, a grey silk top hat with a dent in its crown, and nobody on the farm had claimed it. Ambrose Pell took it down on the first hard morning of December, when the yard had frozen into ridges and the hens had given up on the trough. He dragged it through the straw by its brim, climbed the feed sacks, and settled it on his head with the care of a man arriving late to church.

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Maud found him at the kitchen range at six, sitting bolt upright with a red ribbon knotted under his chin and his eyes fixed on the clock as though it owed him money. She told him he was a disgrace to the Hollis name. He did not move until she gave him the heel of the loaf, and even then he ate it with one paw held out for balance, like a gentleman who had been told the carriage was waiting.

Each evening after that he went through to the parlour, where an oval frame hung above the sideboard, its brass gone the colour of weak tea and its beaded edge still bright. Inside was the only portrait of Mrs Hollis, who had grown roses against the south wall and would never have allowed a cat indoors. Ambrose sat beneath it until the lamp was lit. One morning Maud came in to dust and found a white rose lying on the sill, its stem bitten clean and its petals still wet with frost.

She did not throw it out. She filled the blue jug with water, stood the rose beside the clock, and left the parlour door ajar, which in that house was a kind of invitation. Ambrose came in at noon with his hat at its usual angle, looked at the flower, and decided that the cold had at last been worth enduring.