Colour tattoo of a cat filled with galaxy and nebula patterns, holding a ringed orange planet, on the forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Galaxy cat holding a ringed planet on a forearm

Neo-trad · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A black cat with pale eyes lies across the forearm, its body filled with a starry nebula in pinks, purples and reds. Its paws cradle an orange, cratered planet encircled by a bright red ring. Soft shading and speckled stars give the galaxy texture, while the cat and planet have bold, defined outlines.

Neo-trad Forearm Cat Galaxy Nebula Planet Star Space

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The cat came up the lighthouse on the third night of the gale, soaked to the bone, and you assumed it belonged to the mainland, a stray that had hopped the ferry rope. It refused the herring you offered. Instead it climbed all hundred and twelve iron steps ahead of you, as though it had counted them already, and at the top it lay down across the sill of the lamp room with a cratered orange stone cradled in its front paws.

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Hollis, the old keeper, said the stone was no use to anyone and the cat was no use either, but he let it stay. He had a rule about things that arrived without papers: do not name them, and do not get fond. You named it Venn anyway, after the dull diagram in the almanac, and by February you were saving the fat from the mutton for it.

The storm turned on the twelfth night. The lamp guttered, the mantle split, and out past the Skerries a fishing smack with a red ring painted round her funnel was drifting toward the rocks. You struggled up with the spare mantle while the glass streamed. Venn stood on the rail beside you, the stone glowing in her paws like a coal, and the pale rings of her eyes were the only steady things in the room. You lit the mantle. The beam went out across the water, and far below a lantern swung twice and held.

In the morning the sill was bare except for the stone, and the brass ring round the lamp housing had been polished to a shine nobody had done. Hollis never mentioned the cat again. Out on the black water the sky had spilled its stars across the glass.