Black linework flash design of a fist gripping a lightning bolt beside a storm cloud with lightning, in a Traditional style on a tan background.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Fist gripping lightning and storm cloud flash

Traditional · Black and grey · Flash

The design shows a clenched fist gripping a jagged lightning bolt on the left, with a storm cloud and a second lightning bolt on the right, separated by a diagonal line. The artwork uses bold black outlines, solid fills and hatched shading on the cloud and knuckles, with no colour beyond the tan background. The two motifs are arranged in opposite corners of the sheet, leaving open space between them.

Traditional Fist Lightning Lightning bolt

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The storm had been sitting on Harrow Wood since noon, a grey cauliflower of cloud that refused to move on, and Ned Reddaway had been betting the Crown's whole cellar against it since breakfast. "Nobody holds weather," said his sister Mabel, wiping flour from her hands. "It holds you."

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He went up the wheelwright's ladder at dusk with a leather glove and a length of wet hemp, and tied himself to the lightning rod on St Anne's tower. The bolt came down the wood's edge in a jagged run, stitching the sky to the sexton's oak, and for the space of one breath the whole village saw Ned's hand closed around the fire, light running up his wrist like ink through blotting paper.

Then it was gone. Ned lay on the lead roof smelling of burnt sugar, his glove smoking, and the cloud drifted off east as if it had only paused to look. Mabel found him by the bell rope at midnight, laughing and coughing, unable to lift his right hand.

In the morning the oak at the wood's edge had a split down its trunk, and on the bark beside it, pale as a palm print, was the shape of a fist. Ned said he had won the bet. Mabel said the storm had. Neither of them would pay the other a drink, and the Crown's cellar stayed full.