Colour tattoo sleeve on an upper arm showing a haunted house, a white cat ghost with a green bow, a dark cat figure with a red bow, a bat and a tombstone against a blue sky.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Haunted house and cat characters on an upper arm

Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A colour tattoo covers the upper arm and part of the shoulder, showing a purple haunted house with lit yellow windows, a bat, bare trees and a pale cat-faced ghost wearing a green bow. A dark cat figure with a red bow and a tombstone sit lower on the arm, set against a blue night sky with a spider-web style pattern. The bold outlines and flat, cartoon-like shading give the piece a playful feel, and the person's face is not visible.

Upper arm Ghost Cat Bat Tombstone Tree Bow Moon Sky Hello kitty

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The ghost at number nine Hollin Lane had been dead for eleven years and had never once managed a proper scare. Her green satin bow, cut from a curtain tieback, was the only part of her that still held any opinion. Each night she drifted past the bare trees to the gravestone at the bottom of the garden, where Ezra Pell lay under a slab reading Here Lies A Man Who Fixed Everything, and she told him the boiler was making that noise again.

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Sable, the black cat who lived in the attic with his red-bowed companion, thought this was pathetic. He sat on the windowsill with his tail wrapped round his paws and watched the bat from the chimney deliver letters nobody had written. "You could try rattling a chain," he said. "The chain is in the shed," said the ghost. "The shed is occupied by a mouse who wants a deposit back."

Then an estate agent called Dennis Fairbrother came up the path on a Tuesday with a clipboard and a laminated sign. He measured the porch, tapped the damp patches and wrote things down. The ghost followed him from room to room, sighing through keyholes and rearranging his pencils, and he only said, "Subsidence," and kept writing.

On the last evening Dennis stood at the gate in the blue dark, reading his notes under the moon. The ghost drifted up beside him and breathed on the page until the ink ran into the shape of a small green bow. He looked up. Sable had come down to the gate and sat perfectly still, the red bow on his ear catching the lamplight. Dennis walked off without the sale. "Haunted," he told the office, and for once nobody argued.