Black and grey ornamental tattoo of a lotus with hanging chain drapes covering the shoulder and upper arm, shown in three views.

Ornate lotus and drape tattoo on shoulder and arm

Blackwork · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows a symmetrical lotus flower with curling scrolls above, a central diamond medallion, and a fringe of looped drapes with dangling chains and small pendant motifs. The linework is bold and solid, with fine dotwork shading in the medallion and petals. The image is a three-panel composition of the same upper arm and shoulder from different angles, with only black and grey ink visible against neutral skin.

Blackwork Dotwork Shoulder Upper arm Lotus Mandala Medallion Chain Pendant Scroll Ornament

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The frost came early that year, and by the second week of December the kitchen window at Hollin Fold had grown a skin so thick I could not see the yard through it. I scraped a hole with my thumbnail, the way Mam used to, and watched the grey light seep through. Behind me the brass lamp still hung over the table on its chain, the way it had since before I was born.

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It was an odd thing for a farm kitchen. Dad had bought it at a sale in Kendal in the year the milk price fell: a lotus of pressed brass with a diamond medallion at its heart and a fringe of hanging links, each ending in a little pendant shaped like a teardrop or a star. When the lamp was lit, the drapes threw lace-shaped shadows across the flagstones, and Mam said it made the place look like a dance hall that had lost its way.

Dad died in February. Now Tom wanted the place sold by spring, and the buyer's man had walked the rooms with a clipboard and a torch, touching the lamp and saying "period" as if it were an insult. I took it down myself on the last Sunday of the month, standing on the good chair and unhooking the chain link by link while the frost ticked on the glass. On the underside of the medallion, where the brass had worn to gold, someone had scratched two sets of initials and a date.

I wrapped it in a tea towel and carried it out to the Land Rover. The yard was white and silent. I set it on the passenger seat, and as the engine warmed the chains swung and chimed against the glass, a small bright sound. I thought, that is the last thing this house will say to me. Then I drove it down to the flat in town and hung it from the hook by the door, where it still catches the light.