Black and grey daisy flowers with scrolling vines and dot shading, tattooed on the upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Daisy and scroll tattoo on an upper arm

Botanical · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows large daisy-style flowers, a smaller bloom, leafy tendrils and spiral scrolls, with a field of stippled dots in the background. The linework is fine and the petals are shaded with soft grey gradients. The image is black and grey, and the tattoo fills the frame across the upper arm.

Botanical Fine line Upper arm Daisy Flower Vine Scroll Dot Leaves

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

By the third waltz the mirror ball has spilled its pale dots across the walls and up over the balcony rail, and you have stopped trying to count them. Dora Pell, who keeps the cloakroom hatch at the Palais, watches you over her spectacles with the expression of a woman who has already decided how the night will end.

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The daisy pinned to your lapel has begun to wilt at the rim, its petals curling like the brass scrolls on the bandstand. Harold Quayle has asked you to dance twice before, once at the Whitsun fete and once in the rain outside the bus station, and both times you said no. Tonight he stands at the edge of the floor with his cap in one hand and the other held out, not quite steady, as if the band were a weather forecast he had decided to trust.

You take the hand. The floor is crowded and his shoes are too big, and for four bars he treads on you with great seriousness. Somewhere near the drum kit the ball catches the light and sends a swarm of dots over both of you, and he laughs, a short surprised sound, the first honest thing he has said all year. When the last chord hangs in the air you let go and walk to the hatch to collect your coat.

Dora hands it over with a daisy tucked in the pocket, fresh and white, its stalk still wet from a glass. "He left that for you," she says, "and he's waiting by the doors, so you'd better go and tell him whether you're staying for the next one." Outside the rain has stopped, and the pavement shines with small silver dots where the light fell through the windows. You step across them one at a time, deciding.