Black and grey dotwork tattoo of a house and trees inside a leafy wreath, with roses above and below, on the outer thigh.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

House and roses in a wreath on a thigh

Dotwork · Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

A cottage-style house with a pitched roof and a dense tree stands in the centre of the design, with a rose at the top and another at the bottom. Fine stippled dots build the shading across the house, trees and sky, while the wreath of leaves and foliage is drawn with cleaner outlines. The image is black and grey, with the design filling the upper thigh and set against plain skin and dark clothing.

Dotwork Botanical Thigh House Tree Rose Wreath Foliage Leaves

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The roses had to be wrapped in wet sacking before the carter came, or the cold off the Medway would take the buds on the north wall. Marcia knelt in the mud with her skirts knotted at the knee and worked the cloth around the stems one by one, counting under her breath because counting kept her hands from shaking. Behind her the cottage stood with its pitched roof sagging a little toward the lane, smoke rising thin from the single chimney where her brother had banked the fire at dawn.

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The ash tree had come up through the boundary ditch the summer after their mother died and nobody had cut it down. Now its crown leaned over the thatch, and the dappled shade it threw across the yard shifted every hour like something breathing. Gaius had planted the roses himself, three cuttings from a Londinium nursery, and he had sworn they would bloom white in May for the magistrate's wife, who paid in silver and never once looked at the ground.

The carter did not come. Instead, a rider in a grey cloak reined up at the gate near noon, and Marcia saw from the way he sat his horse that he had been sent to take the cottage back. She stood with her hands raw and wet, a sack of roses over one arm, and told him the ground was hers to plant. He studied the house for a long time, the ivy climbing the lintel and the tree heavy over the roof, and then he laughed and turned his horse around.

That evening she cut the last bloom, pressed it into the soft earth at the threshold, and went inside to wait for spring.