Black and grey hexagonal honeycomb tattoo covering a shoulder and upper arm, with shaded hexagons that appear raised.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Hexagon honeycomb pattern across a shoulder

Geometric · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

A honeycomb of hexagons covers the shoulder and upper arm of a bare-skinned person, with some cells outlined and others filled with dense grey shading. The shading varies from light to dark across the cells, giving a raised, plate-like effect that follows the curve of the shoulder. The image is in black and grey only, with a plain pale background and the subject cropped at the chest and arm.

Geometric Shoulder Hexagon Honeycomb Geometric pattern Grid Shading

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The hall tiles at Seacrest had lifted again by the second week of October, and Mrs Pardoe wanted them down before the Hendersons came for their last fortnight. I knelt on the boards with a flat bar while the wind leaned on the sash windows and gulls walked the gutter like they paid rent. Every tile came up with a sigh of old mortar, and every one was the same pale hexagon, a little warped at the edges.

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Underneath was the floor she'd never mentioned. Grey slate hexes, each one bevelled so its middle sat proud of its rim, laid in rows that followed the curve of the hall as if the house had been built around them. Some cells were cracked, some had gone black with damp, and a few were thick with the dust of forty winters. I counted forty-one across before my knees gave up, and then I started counting by the wall instead.

Ray had laid them the spring before he went out on the trawler that didn't come back. She told me that when she handed me the tea, and then she told me again, the way people do when a thing has worn smooth in their mouths. 'Every cell holds its own weight,' she said. 'Take one out and the rest lean in to close the gap.'

I lifted the last tile by the far door. Beneath it, in a hollow no bigger than my palm, sat a comb of old wax gone the colour of weak tea, and a single sealed envelope addressed in pencil to Mrs Pardoe, in a hand that wasn't Ray's. I didn't open it. I put the tile back and pressed it down until it sat flush with the rest.