Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Lego bricks dissolving from a face outline
Fine line · Upper arm · Colour · Photo
A black line drawing of a head in three-quarter view fills most of the frame, with its eye area replaced by a cluster of coloured Lego bricks. Some bricks float outside the outline, scattered toward the top right. The linework is thin and even, and the bricks are shaded in blue, green, red, yellow and orange against the unshaded skin, on a pink backdrop.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The box from the Oakfield house clearance weighed more than it should have, and Marjorie's nephew swore the bricks had been sorted by colour once, years back, before the boy who owned them grew up and stopped caring. Nobody had sorted them since. Dolores tipped the lot onto the trestle table in the church hall and the reds slid off first, then the blues, and by the time the kettle boiled there was a small bright landslide across the floorboards.
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Dolores had run the stall for nineteen years and knew the rule: you never pick the pieces out for people, you let them pick. So she set a tin for coins beside a card that read Build Something, Take It Home. A man in a wax jacket came first and built a boat. A girl with a plaster on her chin built a dog with four legs and a spare. Nobody built a face. Dolores noticed that the faces people began always came apart halfway through, the eyes the first thing to go, as if nobody trusted themselves to look that long.
On the last Saturday in March a lad of about nine stood at the table with his hands in his pockets and said the bricks ought to make his grandad, the one who sat in the window above the launderette. He didn't say why he wanted him gone to pieces. He set down a yellow stud, then a blue one, then stopped, because the head he'd drawn in his mind would not hold its shape without the eyes. Dolores gave him the corner of the table and a tin of spares. She didn't watch. She counted the coins.
When the hall emptied she found the head finished. It had no eyes, only a scatter of colour drifting off toward the window, and beside it a card in careful capitals: TAKE THE BRICKS, I HAVE THE REST. Dolores left it where it lay. In the morning the bricks had moved again, a little further toward the door.
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