Black and grey realism tattoo of an anthropomorphic meerkat wearing a monocle, tailored jacket, waistcoat and tie, on the thigh.

Meerkat in suit and monocle on thigh

Realism · Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

A meerkat with a monocle on a fine chain stands upright in a tailored jacket, waistcoat and tie, set within an oval vignette. The fur and face are shaded with soft greys and fine detail in the eyes and whiskers, while the suit uses deeper blacks and lighter edge lines. The tattoo is shown in close view on a limb, with the oval shape filling most of the frame.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mr Thessaly from the council arrived at dusk with a clipboard and a face like damp cardboard, and asked me in the great hall whether the roof was structurally sound. I told him the roof had been declining since the Wars of the Roses and saw no reason to change its habits for a surveyor. My monocle, hung on its fine brass chain, swung once against my waistcoat as I spoke. He did not laugh. Nobody laughs at a steward in a proper tie.

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The keep had been a ruin for two hundred years and a home for me for thirty. I kept the tally of the stones that fell at night, the pigeon accounts, and the visitors' book, whose last entry in faded violet ink read simply: Lady Ottoline, returning for Michaelmas supper. She had not returned. Every September I laid out the cutlery regardless, because a house in disrepair is still a house, and a steward who stops dressing for dinner has stopped being anything at all.

Thessaly came back the following week with a rolled sheet stamped in red. Condemned, it said, and the word was a sort of relief, as if the castle had finally been called by its right name. "You can't stay," he said, not unkindly. I agreed. I only asked for one evening. He gave me until the moon rose over the curtain wall, and I spent it doing what I always did: pressing my jacket, brushing the lapels, fixing the knot of my tie in the cracked mirror of the chapel vestry.

When the moon cleared the wall I carried the one good chair to the head of the long table, unfolded the napkin, and set a place for Lady Ottoline with the best fork. Then I sat down, lifted my glass to the open sky, and waited with the patience that only a meerkat and a ruin can really afford.

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