Five small potted cactus and succulent tattoos in green and teal, stacked vertically down a forearm against a white background.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Five potted cacti down a forearm

Botanical · Forearm · Colour · Photo

Five small potted cacti and succulents are arranged in a vertical column along the forearm, each in a white pot with a brown outline. The plants use green and teal fills, with simple dotted spines and striped detailing on the top one. The composition is clean and evenly spaced, with the raised hand at the top of the frame and a plain white backdrop.

Botanical Forearm Cactus Succulent Plant

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The row of pots had been Mrs Okonedo's idea, though nobody at the allotment society could agree whether she meant it as a joke. Five of them, lined up on the windowsill of the converted bakery where Dilys ran the plant swap on Thursdays, each one a different sulk. The striped one was called Gerald because it looked like it had been told off. The fat green one was Barbara. The two-headed thing in the bottom pot had come from a cutting nobody could account for, and it had been named after the postman, who took it personally.

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Dilys had moved them all to the back room the week the damp came through, and that was where Tomasz found her on Saturday, kneeling on a folded tea towel with a bucket of grit and a look of grim concentration. He had come to collect the hire van keys. He stayed to hold the trowel.

"They're not meant to be repotted in March," he said.

"Nobody told Barbara that."

Barbara had split her pot overnight, and a root the colour of old piano keys was curling out over the lip. Dilys eased it back with two fingers, the way you'd settle a child in a car seat, and sat back on her heels. Gerald watched from the top shelf with what could only be called satisfaction. Tomasz gave her the new pot, white and a little too big, and she tipped Barbara into it with a grunt.

When they finally stood up, the room smelled of wet soil and the five of them were in a neat line along the sill again, every one of them pointing at the window as if waiting for a bus. "Right," said Dilys. "Now we see who forgives us."