Fine line tattoo of the London skyline, with the London Eye and blue and pink fireworks, on a forearm, glowing under UV light.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

London skyline and fireworks on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A tattoo runs down the forearm showing a London skyline, including the London Eye ferris wheel, rendered in thin outline with some shading. Blue, pink and purple fireworks and small star shapes surround the skyline on a soft purple cloud-like background. The photo is taken under ultraviolet light, so the colour inks glow brightly against the dark surroundings.

Fine line Forearm Skyline Star Cloud City

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Marguerite had told the council the paint would last until spring, which was a lie she told every year, because nobody in Lambeth ever read the small print on a hoarding. Tonight it was the last job before the fireworks started over the river, and her brother Ade stood on the crane platform holding a tin of violet primer as if it might spill its sky on him.

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They had worked from a photograph Ade's daughter had sent from her phone, cropped so the spokes of the big wheel lined up with the chimney of the old power station. Marguerite drew the skyline in thin black first, then tipped the ultraviolet medium into the little palette cups she used for gilding. The cheap blue went grey under the streetlights. Only the glowing kind made a city look like a city after dark.

At ten to midnight the crowd on Westminster Bridge went quiet in the way crowds do, and then the first rocket broke over the water. Ade switched off the work lamps. The whole hoarding lit up at once: the wheel, the thin towers, a scatter of pink and blue bursts that had been painted in the afternoon. For a few seconds she could not tell which of the fireworks were hers and which were the real ones.

Ade said, "Well, that's you done for another year." She told him to shut up and take the other end of the ladder. Going down, she stopped on the third rung and looked back. The paint was still faintly alight, a small city hanging over the traffic, and she thought of the drivers who would pass it every morning in January without once seeing it glow.