Colourful neo-traditional tattoo of a TARDIS police box with a bold black outline and a purple, pink and blue galaxy pattern filled with stars, shown on skin.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Galaxy-filled TARDIS tattoo

Neo-trad · Other · Colour · Photo

The tattoo shows a blue police box, with its windows, panels and roof outlined in heavy black linework. The inside of the box is shaded with a galaxy pattern of purple, pink and blue, with small white speckles suggesting stars. The design is shown head-on and fills most of the frame against a plain skin background.

Neo-trad Other Tardis Police box Galaxy Star Nebula

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody on the night platform at Ashworth Junction had ever noticed the blue box, which is why I noticed it. I have worked the lost property hatch for nineteen years and I know every umbrella left on the 22:14 to Carlisle. The box was not on any list. It stood between the vending machine and the bench where the drunk men sleep, its lamp unlit, its panels so dark that the stars painted on them looked like the only lit things in the station.

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At two minutes past midnight I walked over with my torch and put my hand flat on the wood. It was warm, like a loaf fresh from the oven. The little roof light blinked once, and a breath of cold air smelling of toffee came through the gaps. I said out loud that this was not in the rota. The door swung inwards onto a room far larger than the box had any right to be, with a brass rail running round a column that hummed like a kettle thinking about it.

A woman in a green anorak was standing inside, holding a ticket for a train that left in 1987. She asked whether this was the platform for tomorrow. I told her the 06:40 was the only thing I could vouch for. She laughed and said that was all anybody could ask of a timetable, then stepped past me onto the concrete, where the frost was already melting under the sodium lamps.

When the first milk train rattled through at five, the box had gone, leaving a faint scorch of starlight on the paving and one white speck stuck to my ledger. I still have it, pressed under the glass of my desk. Every night since, I check the bench for a blue box, and every night I find a ticket with tomorrow's date on it, in the handwriting of someone who was only passing through.