Fine line black and grey botanical tattoo of a peony with leaves above element tiles spelling BReAtHe, on the side of a ribcage.

Peony and periodic table tiles on ribs

Fine line · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A black and grey peony flower with layered petals and leaves sits above four square tiles spelling B, Re, At and He, each with a small atomic number and element name. The linework is fine and stippled, with soft shading inside the petals and leaves. The tattoo is centred on the side of the ribcage against a plain pale background, with a dark waistband at the bottom of the frame.

Fine line Botanical Ribs Peony Flower Leaves Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Ivo,

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It has rained on the market every day since Tuesday, and the peonies have gone soft at the edges like wet paper. Mr Hollis on the corner says they won't last the weekend, so I have marked them down to two pounds a bunch, and still nobody buys. I stand under the tin awning counting the drips off the edge, which is a daft habit, but it passes the hours.

Yesterday a boy of about seven came past with a helium balloon tied to his wrist, red as a postbox, nudging the awning as if it wanted out. He asked why it floated when the rain did not. I told him helium was lighter than the air, and that it was the second box on the chart Dad pinned above the till. He wanted to know if the other boxes could float too. I said most of them sink straight to the bottom of everything, and he looked so pleased that I nearly laughed.

Then the knot slipped. The balloon rose over the fishmonger's roof and shrank to a cherry-coloured dot in the drizzle, and the boy did not cry, he just stood there with his empty wrist. I gave him the best peony from the bucket, the double-crowned one, and told him to hold it while he waited for the next balloon. He carried it off like a lit match.

I sold four bunches after that, to people in a hurry who did not look at me. I keep thinking about those tiles, how four small symbols can spell out one plain word if you are patient with them. Come home at Easter if you can. The stall is yours to mind when the rain stops, and I will show you how to keep the petals open with damp cardboard.

Love, Maud