Colour realism tattoo of a cat with bright blue eyes set against a starry galaxy, on the upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Galaxy cat on upper arm

Realism · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A realistic cat with striking blue eyes and detailed whiskers fills the centre of the design. Its fur is shaded smoothly, and the background is a dense field of stars with a nebula in pink, purple and blue, plus a small red planet on the left. The image is a close crop of the upper arm and shoulder against a dark purple top.

Realism Upper arm Cat Galaxy Star Nebula Planet Space Whiskers Blue eye

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The cat was sitting on the bench again when the 22:14 pulled in, tail wrapped neatly round its feet as if it had bought a ticket. Nobody claimed it. Mr Okafor in the signal box said it had been coming since the spring, always to the bench under the clock, always gone before the last train cleared the sidings. I had given up asking where it went.

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My job in the lost property office at Hollin Bridge is mostly umbrellas, one glove at a time, and a violin case with nothing inside it that anyone has ever come back for. I logged the cat the way I log everything: found on platform two, one cat, blue eyes, no collar, no name. Its eyes were the bright blue of a gas flame, and when the lamps caught them they seemed to hold a little weather of their own. It watched me write as though it were checking my spelling.

On the last Thursday in October it would not get down from the bench. I picked it up to carry it inside, and it turned its head towards the goods yard, where the sky had gone the colour of a bruise and then of a peach, pink and violet pooling over the cranes, with stars pushing through like pins in cloth. A small red planet hung low over the water tower. The cat made a sound I had never heard from a cat, a low, pleased hum, and pressed its face against my collar.

In the morning the bench was empty. I looked in the book under yesterday's date and found I had written claimed in my own hand, though I had no memory of anyone coming. I went out to the platform and stood where the cat used to sit. Above the signal gantry the sky was still faintly violet, and I swear one of the stars was blinking slowly, the way a cat does when it has decided to trust you.