Upper arm tattoo of an outlined open hand filled with blue and purple galaxy shading and a gold Starfleet-style emblem.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Galaxy hand and Starfleet emblem on upper arm

Upper arm · Colour · Photo

The tattoo shows an outlined open hand, with the palm and fingers filled by blue, violet and pink shading that suggests a night sky with small white star highlights. A gold triangular emblem with a circle inside sits over the lower palm, resembling the Starfleet insignia. Colour ink dominates, with soft, blended edges framed by bold black outlines.

Upper arm Hand Galaxy Star Space Triangle Circle

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The projector at the Sandholme Community Hall had been dying since spring, so Dilys Parry spent Saturday mornings with a torch in one hand and a mug of stewed tea in the other, coaxing the Milky Way out of a tin dome that smelled of damp cardboard. Twelve children sat on the crash mats with their necks bent back. Only the smallest, a boy called Teddy Ashworth in a yellow raincoat, asked whether the stars were still there when the lights came on.

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"They're there," she said. "The lights are just too loud to hear them." He didn't believe her, so she showed him what her father had taught her on the top of Cold Hill, where he had kept the telescope for thirty years. She raised her right hand between the projector and the dome and spread her fingers. The light slipped through the gaps, and her palm turned blue and violet, freckled with pinpricks of white, and the hall went quiet the way it only did for magic.

Teddy pressed his own small hand against hers and squinted. "Is that the ship?" he whispered, pointing at the shadow of her thumb, where a sliver of gold had caught on the brass pin her father had left her, a triangle with a ring set inside it. "Mind the hull," she said. "It's older than both of us."

When the projector clicked off and the lights came up, the children shuffled for the door. Teddy stayed on the mat with his hand still raised to the empty dome. "Wait," he said, "they're still on my fingers." Dilys didn't tell him they were only the ghosts of the stars, the way a window keeps the sun for a moment after you look away. She just held her own hand up beside his until the caretaker came in to stack the chairs.