Black and grey realism tattoo of impossible interlocking staircases and arches wrapping along the side of the ribs.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Impossible staircase and arches on the ribs

Realism · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A tall architectural design of staircases, arched colonnades and balustrades appears to climb and turn back on itself, in the manner of an impossible-perspective print. The linework is soft and the shading is smooth, with light grey highlights and deep grey shadows that give the stonework depth. The design is in black and grey only and runs vertically along the side of the torso.

Realism Ribs Column

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The stairwell in the old east wing has nine landings on paper and never the same number in practice. You learned to count them aloud on your first night, one hand on the cold rail, the other holding the bleep that has gone quiet in your pocket. Ward 4 is on the fourth floor. You take the stairs because the lift was condemned in March and nobody has got round to changing the sign.

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Tonight the arches go on longer than they should. Columns stand in pairs beside you, their shadows laid across the steps in grey bands, and the balustrade turns back under your palm as if it has changed its mind. You climb past the tall window with the crack shaped like a river, and the moon in it always sits a little further to the left than before. Mrs Okafor's cannula is on your list. Her pad says Bed 12. You keep climbing.

At the turn, a porter you half know sits on the third step with a flask of tea. He says the building does this when the heating is off, that it folds itself up like paper to keep warm. You don't argue. You ask him which way is down. He points up, laughing, then points down, and both are right, which is the trouble with the place.

You reach the landing at last. The sign reads 4, and the ward doors swing open onto a corridor of lit beds exactly where they should be. Mrs Okafor is asleep with her hand open on the sheet. You check the line, write the time on the chart, and only then notice that the stairs you came up are no longer behind you. Ahead, a new flight begins, and you take the first step anyway.