Colour tattoo on an upper arm showing an energy drink can, a green liquor bottle and a pink bag on an IV-style drip, with tubing linking them.

Energy drink, liquor bottle and drip on upper arm

Upper arm · Colour · Photo

The tattoo shows a blue energy drink can with a red and yellow emblem, a green liquor bottle with a labelled front, and a pink rectangular bag hung from a tube that connects the three items. The linework is bold and outlined, with flat fills and some simple shading on the can and bottle. Bright blue, green, red and pink ink sit against pale skin, and the design runs down the upper arm against a plain orange top and a street background.

Upper arm

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The saline bag had never liked the hook above bed nine. From there it could see the whole ward, the wall clock stuck at ten to four and the night nurse, Agnieszka, who hummed Dusty Springfield under her breath and wrote everyone's name in capitals. The bag had been filled that afternoon, cool and pale as a boiled sweet, and it had been told only one thing: keep the tube clear.

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The can and the bottle had come in on the same tube, their necks taped to the bedside locker like a pair of dogs on one lead. The can fizzed and rattled, bragging about the all-night shift it had powered through the week before. The bottle said nothing for a long time, then announced that it had once been the most famous thing in a particular Saturday in a particular city, and that nobody had ever asked the bag to hold anything for it. The bag decided it was not going to argue. It just hung there and dripped, one slow drop at a time, which was all anybody had asked of it.

At half past five Agnieszka came back with a fresh pair of gloves and a face that had seen too many Saturdays. She unhooked the can, looked at its dent, and dropped it in the yellow bin without a word. The bottle she tipped into the sink, green glass ringing against the steel. The tube went quiet. The bag kept dripping. By the time the window turned grey, the clock on the wall had finally caught up with the morning, and the bag, still faithful, was the only thing left on the hook.