Colour traditional-style tattoo of a cupcake with bat, bone, skull and crescent moon motifs on the inner forearm.

Halloween cupcake on a forearm

Traditional · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A colour tattoo of a cupcake sits on the forearm. The pink and orange frosting is topped with a bat, a bone, a small skull and a crescent moon, and the green striped wrapper sits at the base. Bold dark outlines and flat, solid colour give it a classic traditional look, with soft grey shading behind the frosting. The tattoo fills the centre of the frame against a plain skin background and a clear plastic backdrop.

Traditional Forearm Cupcake Bat Bone Skull Crescent moon Frosting Halloween

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rain had got into the buttercream by half past four, so the frosting on the last tray had begun to sweat and slump. Dad said it was the damp and nobody would buy cakes in a downpour on Hallowe'en night, but I had already set the orange swirls on top and I wasn't going to waste them. Under the gazebo at the end of Mill Street, the market lamps buzzed and the stallholders swore at their tarps.

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A woman in a yellow mac stopped at my table and asked for the one with the bat on it. I told her the bat had come out crooked, which it had, its wings sagging like wet washing. She took two anyway and paid with a coin so worn the king had gone soft, then said she would bring her boy back tomorrow to see the moon. I did not understand until she was gone and I found a crescent of sugar on the cloth where she had been standing, pale as a fingernail.

I packed the trays at nine. The skull had slid sideways and the bone had half sunk into the pink, so I scraped them off with a palette knife and laid them in a row on greaseproof paper. Rain beat on the tarp like someone wanting in. I thought about the moon, which had survived the afternoon better than anything else, and about how a thing made of icing and food colour should not last longer than a single night.

The next morning the stall was dry and bright, and on the wooden trestle someone had left a note under a jar of sprinkles. It said: Same time next year, and one orange moon, please. Beneath it, pressed into the sugar I had forgotten to cover, was the print of a small hand.