Traditional style tattoo of a hot air balloon decorated with orange flowers and leaves, placed on the shoulder.

Hot air balloon with flowers on a shoulder

Traditional · Shoulder · Mixed · Photo

A hot air balloon with a patterned envelope, showing a large cream flower and a smaller orange flower above a band of leaves. Bold black outlines define the balloon, its stripes, teardrop motifs and wicker basket, with orange, yellow and grey fills. The balloon is centred on the frame against smooth skin, with the edge of a dark garment at the top left.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The envelope came down in a turnip field outside Hexham with its mouth still full of cold air, and by the time Dad and I had dragged it through the gate, the snow had shut the road behind us. The Fell Hare was the only lit window for miles. Mrs Ogle gave us the room over the bar and a pot of tea strong enough to stand a spoon in, then looked at the bundle of canvas in the doorway as if it were a dead sheep.

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Dad had painted the flowers on the envelope himself, the summer the sponsors wanted plain blue. A balloon with nothing on it is just a sack, he'd said, and he'd sat up nights with a brush and a tin of orange, mixing the cream for the big bloom until it matched the inside of a shell. The rain band round the middle was my idea. He said it kept the dew off the seams. I think he was pleased I'd asked.

That night the wind dropped to nothing and the snow kept falling, soft and straight. We spread the envelope across the barn floor and weighted its hem with coal scuttles, and Dad sat on an upturned crate running his thumb along the wicker rim of the basket, the way some men check a dog's paws. He didn't say he was frightened. He said the wind would be gone by morning, and it was.

We lit the burner at first light, while the lane outside was still a smooth white sheet. The envelope lifted slowly, filling from the bottom until the flowers stood out round its belly, the orange bloom catching the sun before anything else did. Mrs Ogle came out in her apron with a tray of tea and stood in the yard holding it. Below us the snow was printed with the basket's shadow, small and square, and we rose out of it without a sound.

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