Black and grey dotwork tattoo of a woman wearing a crown of roses and a draped scarf, with a braided updo and realistic shading.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Dotwork portrait of a woman with a rose crown

Dotwork · Black and grey · Photo

A portrait of a woman with her head tilted slightly, wearing a crown of roses in her braided hair and a draped scarf around her shoulders. The face and hair are built from fine black dots and stippled shading, with bolder outlines defining the contours and the scarf folds. The roses are drawn with lighter shading and clean linework, and the piece is shown in black and grey on pale skin.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Tom,

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The rain has been coming sideways across the market since Tuesday, so I have sold more umbrellas than roses, which Mr Okonedo next door says is a sin against the trade. Still, the buckets are full. I keep the best stems under the awning where the drips can't reach them, and I cut the pink ones back twice a day so they don't go soft in the wet.

The woman came on Thursday, just as the stalls were shutting. She wore a grey scarf knotted loosely at the throat and asked for roses without thorns, which made me laugh, because roses without thorns are only paper. I told her so. She didn't smile, but she asked me to make a crown of them instead, and she sat on an upturned crate while I wove white ones through a cord, pinning each bloom so it held.

When I'd finished she gave me a card. It was a drawing, but not made with pencil. Every line was built from tiny black dots, thousands of them, so the cheek looked soft and the braid looked lit from one side. I asked who had done it. She said a man who worked in the back room of a shop on Bristol Road had pricked it in over three winters, one dot at a time, and had never once hurried.

I have the card pinned above the till now. Customers ask about it, and I tell them the rain should come down slower for patience like that. Come home at Easter if the boat allows, and bring me the good scissors you left in the shed.

Love, Nell

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