Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Flamingos and vintage trailer on upper arm
Neo-trad · Upper arm · Colour · Photo
The tattoo shows two pink flamingos in the foreground, one with its head bent low, beside an orange ring shape at the bottom. Behind them sit a silver vintage trailer, a crescent moon in a purple sky, pine trees and a mountain on a sandy brown ground. Bold dark outlines frame the saturated colours, and the scene fills the upper arm in a panoramic composition.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Dennis had been trying to sell the flamingos since eight. There were two of them, pink as a bad sunburn, bolted onto bent wire legs, and a rubber ring with a faded orange stripe that he swore had come off a Dover ferry. Nobody buys lawn birds in October. Rain came off the tarpaulins in ropes, the stall beside us had already packed up, and Dennis kept shuffling the birds about as if they were waiting for a bus.
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"Take the pair for a tenner," he said, "and the ring's yours for the kids." I had no kids and no garden, only a Bedford van with a cracked windscreen and a trailer hitched behind it that had been my dad's. He'd bought it off a retired copper in Eastbourne in 1987 and never once taken it past the caravan park. We used to sit inside with the door propped open, watching the sea go grey, and he'd tell me it was a silver bullet built for the Arizona desert that had got lost on the way to Sussex.
I paid the tenner. We strapped the birds to the roof rack under a tarp, and halfway up the hill to the reservoir the cloud split along the ridge. A crescent moon hung over the pines even though it was barely three in the afternoon. I pulled into the layby, climbed onto the roof and wedged the ring round the neck of the nearer bird, so it bowed to the view.
Dad would have called it a sorry sight. Below us the water had gone the colour of pewter, and the wet birds shone on the roof of the van, looking back at the trailer as though they had always meant to follow it.
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