Two hands held together with a small unicorn head tattooed on the side of each index finger, one outlined with pink shading and one in grey.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Matching unicorn tattoos on fingers

Hand · Mixed · Photo

Two hands are pressed side by side, with a unicorn head tattooed on the side of a finger on each hand. The left unicorn is outlined in dark line with pink shading along its mane and horn, while the right unicorn is shaded in grey with a flowing, textured mane. The background is soft and out of focus, and both designs are shown at close range.

Hand Unicorn Horse Horn Mane Matching

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit yourselves down, and mind the draught from the stairwell, because this is about the two white horses who lived on the fourteenth floor of Kestrel House and never once in forty years agreed on the colour of the sky. Mrs Dunmore on the left kept a pink one, all frills and nerve, and the grey one belonged to Ivy Okafor across the landing, who thought pink was for birthday cards and biscuit tins.

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Every morning the lift broke down and they met on the stairs, two women with carrier bags, and every morning they argued. The unicorns, so the old caretaker used to say, got bored of it first. The pink one stamped his hoof on the concrete and said, you'll be the death of me, grey lady. The grey one tossed her mane and said she'd rather be the death of him than wrong about the weather.

Then came the winter the boiler failed across the whole block and nobody had heat for nineteen days. Mrs Dunmore climbed up with a flask of leek soup and found Ivy sitting in her coat with the cold in her knees, and neither of them said one word about horses. They shared the soup, a spoonful each, and the unicorns, who had never once been asked their opinion, stood close together on the landing and kept each other warm.

When the lift finally wheezed back to life in April, the two of them rode it down together with a bag apiece, arguing about the bus timetable all the way to the ground floor. The horses are still up there on the fourteenth, pink and grey, looking at each other across the landing as though one of them knows who was right, and neither is telling.