A solid black crow silhouette tattoo facing left on the upper back, with a dark strap visible at the top edge of the frame.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Crow silhouette on a upper back

Back · Black and grey · Photo

A solid black silhouette of a perched crow or raven, facing left with one foot raised, sits on pale skin. The bird has no interior linework or shading, so its outline is filled evenly in dark ink. The sepia-toned photograph is taken close up, with a dark strap across the upper left and a soft grey background.

Back Crow Bird Silhouette Raven

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rain had been coming sideways across Harrow Lane Market since six, and by half past eleven the only things still standing on the north row were me, my tin of coppers and the crow on the awning rail. Nobody had named him. Dolly on the flower stall called him the Coroner, because he turned up wherever a bargain was being struck and watched it with the same flat disapproval.

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He had a way of perching with one foot drawn up, as if he were waiting for a bus he did not think much of. Each morning I unloaded the cockle trays and left him the shell that cracked easiest. He never thanked me. He just looked, and I took that as payment. Then one Thursday a stooped man in a camel coat came down the row asking for whoever bought old silver, and the crow dropped off the rail and landed on his shoulder as though he had been hired for the job.

The man had a ring in his palm, a plain band worn thin, and he wanted eleven pounds for it because his wife had left him for a glazier and he needed the bus fare to his sister's in Wigan. I offered him eight. He accepted without argument, which told me more than his story had. The crow stayed on his shoulder through the whole haggle, tilting his head at the coins as if pricing them himself.

When the rain thinned to a grey mist, the man walked off towards the station and the crow flew back to the rail and sat watching the wet pavement where he had stood. The next morning there were two crows on the awning, and I could not for the life of me tell which one had been mine to feed.