Black and grey realism style tattoo of a cyclist silhouette above a log cabin on an upper arm, with small red details by the cabin window.

Cyclist and log cabin on upper arm

Realism · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A silhouetted figure rides a bicycle against a dark, swirling sky, with a log cabin and a brick wall below. The shading is soft and smudged in grey and black, with the cabin's edges and bricks drawn in finer lines. Small red details near the cabin window are the only strong colour, while the surrounding sleeve includes blue and yellow tones at the edge of the frame.

Realism Upper arm Bicycle Cabin Cloud Sky

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The wind came over the ridge before Dora Vell had finished pinning the last sheet, and she knew from the way the line snapped that the afternoon post would not get through. Her husband had gone down to the valley on Tuesday with the cart and not come back, and the storm had turned the sky the colour of wet slate, bruised at the edges, churning above the roof like something stirred in a pan.

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Her son Tomas was out on the old black bicycle, the one with a pedal bound in string, somewhere on the lane between the cabin and the chapel. She saw him through the window, leaning low over the handlebars, and she saw the gust take him at the bend. He did not fall. He rose, bicycle and all, pedalling at nothing, his shadow stretched across the clouds, and the storm seemed to lean closer to watch him go past the chimney as if it had been waiting all week for something to happen.

Dora ran out with the bread knife still in her hand, which she later thought had been a foolish thing to bring. The string of red peppers hanging on the shutter swung wildly, flashing like lanterns. Tomas circled once above the brick wall, grinned at her, and called out that the postman had dropped the mail in the sky.

That evening the letters came down with the rain, soaked and sticking to the gutter, and the one addressed to her was from the valley, her husband's handwriting smeared but readable: come and fetch me, the trains have stopped and the wind is kind now. She hung the peppers back on the shutter, still warm from the pan, and waited by the window for the sound of wheels.