Black and grey tattoo of a lamppost and snowy trees with a hill behind, shaded in soft grey tones on the outer forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Lamppost in a snowy landscape on forearm

Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A lamppost with an ornate lantern stands in a snowy winter scene, with bare trees, a distant hill and a soft glow at the top of the lamp. The work uses grey shading and fine outlines, with lighter areas left as skin to suggest snow. The composition runs vertically down the forearm, with the lamppost as the central element and the landscape receding behind it.

Forearm Snow Tree Winter Landscape Hill

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The last southbound is already late when you reach the platform, and the snow has filled the footprints you left coming up from the signal box. The lamp at the end of the platform is the only thing you can see clearly, its glass gone the colour of weak tea, its iron leaves furred white. Somebody has to keep it burning until the train is through, and the rota says that somebody is you.

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Stationmaster Pryce left a note in the hut that morning, pinned under the kettle: Trim the wick at ten, not before, the cold makes it smoke. You trim it. The flame steadies and throws a yellow circle onto the drifts, and beyond the circle the hill goes blue and the bare birches stand like people who have stopped to listen.

At twenty to midnight a figure comes over the stile by the goods yard, carrying a suitcase tied with string. Not a passenger, you think, because no ticket has been sold for this halt in years. She stops at the edge of your light and looks at the lamp rather than at you, the way people look at something they used to know. "Still the same bracket," she says. "They never replaced it."

You tell her the next train is at ten past one, and that the hut has a stove. She nods, sits on the bench and sets the suitcase down with the care of someone carrying eggs. When the train comes you turn the lamp down, as the note says, and for the first time in a year you leave a little light burning on the platform after it has gone.