Black fine line tattoo of an ornate street lamp post standing on wavy ground lines, on the forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Lamp post tattoo on an arm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A single ornate street lamp with a decorative lantern, slender pole and base is drawn in thin black outline. Wavy lines beneath the base suggest the ground or a puddle, and the design is set against plain skin. The linework is clean and uniform, with no shading and no colour.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mr Eddowes had the ladder on his shoulder before the rain properly started, and he pressed the brass key into my palm without looking at it. "Post nineteen, last one on Hollin Row," he said. "Mind the cobbles where they've sunk. The water lies there all winter, and you want your eyes on the glass, not on the puddle."

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I climbed in the dark with the wet iron cold under my gloves and worked the little door open. The flame took on the second strike, and the lantern filled with that yellow light the council was so keen to replace with bulbs in tin shades. Below me the puddle caught it. The lamp was there in the water, every curl of its iron crown and the fine stem of its bracket, but it burned brighter down there than it did up here, and it wavered as if something under the surface were breathing on it.

I meant to snuff it and come down. Instead I stood on the ladder's last rung and watched the reflection hold steady while the real flame guttered in the draught. When I finally pinched the wick out, the lamp below stayed lit, a small gold ring on black water, and I could not for the life of me say why I didn't climb down and stamp on the thing.

The next morning I left the key on the doorstep of the cottage beside post nineteen, as Mr Eddowes had told me to. The street was grey and the lantern was dark and ordinary above it. The puddle was still there, though, and when I passed I kept my eyes on the cobbles, the way he had taught me.

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