Traditional colour tattoo of the Millennium Falcon spaceship between two red roses with green leaves, on a limb resting on a chair.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Millennium Falcon and two roses

Traditional · Other · Colour · Photo

A bold colour tattoo of the Millennium Falcon spaceship sits centrally, flanked by two red roses with dark shading, yellow petal highlights and green leaves. The thick black outlines and flat, saturated fills are typical of traditional American tattooing, with grey shading on the spacecraft's hull. The design fills the frame, with a faint grey tattoo visible at the top edge and the chair edge at the bottom.

Traditional Other Spaceship Rose Leaves

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The pan had been burning since midnight, and by the time I got the porridge off it the galley smelled like a bakery that had given up. I scraped with the flat knife while the hull ticked overhead, cooling from the long burn out of Teshk. On the sill, the rose sat in its dented biscuit tin. It had come aboard as a cutting wrapped in a wet rag, from a garden the port authority had bulldozed, and it had flowered twice since, both times in weeks when none of us could speak.

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Captain Mott called the ship ugly. She had a bulb of a cockpit between two heavy mandibles, grey plates riveted like a dropped toolbox, and red squares painted on her flanks so customs men could tell her from the other rust buckets. Dov, our pilot, said she flew like a tired dog who needed feeding, so he fed her spare fuse wire and whatever he won at dice. He thought I didn't know he slept in the hold with a hand on the throttle housing. Everybody knew everything on a ship this size.

The morning we lifted, the rose opened one petal at a time, the yellow edges curling back as if someone had struck a match behind them. I didn't mention it. I put the kettle on, poured two cups of sweet black tea, and set one beside the tin. Dov came in with his hair flat on one side, looked at the flower, then at the cup, which was the nearest either of us had come to saying grace.

Through the viewport the mandibles folded out and the dock lights slid away like coins down a drain. Dov drank his tea cold, standing, and the ship leaned into the dark with the rose still open.