Colour botanical tattoo of purple crocuses, pink flowers, red berries and a bumblebee on the forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Crocus and pink flower bouquet on a forearm

Botanical · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A bouquet of purple crocuses, pink tulip-like blooms and a large pink open flower sits on the forearm, with sprigs of red berries and green leaves. A small bumblebee is shown in flight above the arrangement. The lines are defined and the petals and leaves use soft shading and blended colour, with the bouquet angled diagonally across the arm against a plain light background.

Botanical Neo-trad Forearm Tulip Anemone Flower Berry Leaves Bouquet

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

'Mind the bucket,' Lorraine said, and Stanley stepped over it without looking, the way you step over a loose stair in a house you have lived in for years. The lift in Carrow Court had been dead for nine days, and the wind came along the eleventh-floor walkway like it paid the rent. The window boxes along the rail were the only green thing for a mile.

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The crocuses had come first, three purple cups pushing up through the soil in the tin trough. Stanley had planted the bulbs in October from a paper sack the market man swore would bloom. The tulips were Lorraine's, pinched from a neighbour's pot, and the pink anemones had come in a sandwich bag from her sister. Somewhere along the way the boxes had become a conversation between two people who did not otherwise say much.

The bee came in off the car park as if it had mislaid something. It bumbled along the rail, dipped towards the crocuses, changed its mind and hung in the air in front of Lorraine's face. 'Bees don't come up eleven floors,' she said. 'Tell that to him,' Stanley said, and she laughed, a short surprised sound he had been trying to earn since the autumn.

They cut the best stems with the kitchen scissors and wrapped them in a page of the Gazette. Stanley carried the bunch down eleven flights, because the lift was still dead and Mrs Adeyemi on the ground floor had grown things in the car park for thirty years. On the landing with the flickering strip light he looked back. The bee had followed them to the stairwell window and was circling it, patient as a neighbour waiting for her turn.