Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Matching cat tattoos on two wrists
Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo
Two inner wrists are shown side by side, each with a single cat drawn in thin black linework. The cat on the left is small and simple, with a rounded body and curled tail, while the cat on the right is larger with a sketchy, doubled outline and whiskers. The shading is minimal, the ink is dark against pale skin, and the background is soft and out of focus.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Nobody on Scarrow Quay could tell you which of the two cats had come first, only that by the time Mrs Dunn took over the net loft they were already fighting over the same warm slate by the chandler's door. The small one was neat as a folded letter. She sat with her tail wrapped round her feet and her eyes half shut, as if the harbour owed her money and she was too polite to ask. The big one was the opposite. He was a bundle of loose edges, his outline never quite settling, his whiskers flung out as though someone had flicked a brush across the page.
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They were not friends, not at first. The gulls learned that the hard way. Every morning the herring boats came in, and every morning the pair of them went down the steps to the fish hall and came back up with whatever the men had thrown them, and every morning they split it without a single word. Mrs Dunn swore they had a bargain. Her husband said they were just two animals who had decided the quay was big enough for both, which was a polite way of saying nobody had asked either of them.
The winter the big cat went missing, the small one walked to the end of the breakwater and sat in the spray for three days. Nobody fed her. She would not come in. On the fourth morning a wet, sodden shape came bumping up the slipway from the far side of the harbour wall, and she stood so fast she nearly tipped into the water. They met in the middle of the cobbles and did not touch. They simply sat down side by side, facing the sea, and the small cat tucked her tail over the big one's paws the way you would fold the corner of a page in a book you meant to finish.
Mrs Dunn still says that is the only time she ever saw either of them look like they expected something to end well.
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