Cat profile in a crescent moon

Fine line · Black and grey · Flash

A cat's head in side profile faces left, with its near ear and eye drawn in detail and whiskers fanning out from the muzzle. The crescent moon outline curves around the head and forms the composition's frame. The drawing uses black ink linework with hatched strokes for the fur, in black and grey only, on a pale paper background.

Fine line Cat Crescent moon Profile Whiskers Fur

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The cat had been on the Tycho freight dock since before I was rostered there, and nobody could say whose she was. Dr Okonedo-Hale swore she came up in the second cargo lift, hidden in a crate of seed stock. Mostly she slept in the lamp housing above the airlock, where the warm exhaust kept the metal from freezing, and she came down only when the shift bell rang, as if she kept the hours herself.

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The winter the relay failed, we lost the Earth feed for eleven days. The screens went grey and the crew went quiet, and I took to sitting on the dock steps with my flask, staring at the sliver of home hanging over the crater rim. It was a thin bright paring, like something left out by mistake. The cat came and sat beside me, tail wrapped over her feet, and looked where I looked, as if the picture was still there for her.

On the twelfth morning the relay chimed. There was a message from my sister in Hull asking whether I was still alive, and under it a long dull update about the Humber tide tables and her neighbour's dog. I laughed until I had to put the flask down. The cat stood, stretched, and walked to the edge of the step where the light fell across the regolith in a pale curve.

I am writing this from the same step, a long time after. The cat is buried under the hydroponics bay now, where the soil stays warmest. I still sit here when the shift is quiet. Sometimes I see her shape in the rim of the light, ears up, looking outward toward something I have not yet learned to name.