Genie lamp and roses flash with script
Neo-trad · Black and grey · Flash
A black line drawing of an ornate genie lamp with a spout curling into swirling smoke, set among two large roses and layered leaves. Fine, detailed linework with hatched and patterned fills on the lamp and leaves, and open, unshaded petals. Script lettering sits at the lower right of the composition, and the design is drawn in black ink on cream paper.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The lamp came out of a skip on Hallam Road, wedged between a rolled-up carpet and a bag of wet plaster. Mrs Adeyemi from flat 14 swore the grime was hiding brass, and I believed her because she had never once been wrong about a bargain. I carried it up eleven flights because the lift had been broken since March, and because I wanted something to do with my hands while the rain came sideways over the car park.
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I gave it a rub with my sleeve, expecting nothing, and the spout coughed out a curl of smoke that unrolled across the kitchen lino like ribbon. The genie was smaller than I'd imagined and wore a cardigan. "Three wishes," he said, checking a clipboard, "though I'm only licensed for two before the paperwork gets silly." I asked for the foxes to stop raiding the bins. He nodded, wrote something down, and the foxes were gone by morning, leaving a tidy line of rose petals along the path, which I thought was a bit much.
For the second wish I asked for something for myself, and I sat a long time with the lamp warm in my lap before I said it. I wanted the balcony to stop being a grey concrete shelf where I kept a dead fern. He looked at me over the clipboard, not unkindly, and said it was the most sensible thing anyone had asked him all month. Then he pointed at the window.
By the next morning two great roses had pushed through the railings, pale as cream, their leaves chased with fine patterned lines, and the whole block came down to look. Mrs Adeyemi wanted to know who had done the planting. I never used the third wish. The smoke still drifts past the window on wet evenings, and I still haven't told anyone what I would have asked for.
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