Traditional colour tattoo of a perfume atomiser bottle with a red rose in a pearl-edged oval on the upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Perfume atomiser with roses on an upper arm

Traditional · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A traditional-style tattoo of an ornate perfume atomiser with a mesh bulb, spray mist and tassel, set on the upper arm. A red rose with green leaves sits inside a white dotted oval on the bottle's body. Bold black outlines and shading give the bottle depth, while red, pink, gold and green provide the colour against the skin and a blue polka dot sleeve.

Traditional Upper arm Rose Spray Tassel Leaves

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rain had been coming down on Saltergate market since before the fishmongers lifted their shutters, and every stall sagged under it except Hanna Brook's, where the awning was tied off with washing line and the bottles stood in rows like geese on wet grass. Her father had left her the scent trade and one bottle he would never sell. It was black glass with gold at the shoulder, a bulb of dark mesh, and a tassel that dripped when the weather turned. Inside, behind a ring of white beads, a red rose floated on a pink ground, and nobody in the town could say how it had got there.

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A boy came in off the street on the third morning, his shoulders dark with wet, and asked for the bottle that breathed. He had four coins in one fist and a sister in the Infirmary on Cross Lane who wanted something sweet to smell. Hanna shook her head. The bottle was not for sale, she said, because a rose kept in glass only lasted as long as the person it was meant for went on hoping. He argued, the way boys argue, and in the end she unscrewed the cap and let him press the bulb once against the inside of his wrist.

The mist came out fine and pink, and for a moment the air in the stall smelled of June. Outside, the rain stopped as if someone had lifted it off the roofs by the corners. The boy stood very still with his arm held out, then ran.

Hanna sat down on her upturned crate and waited for him to come back with the coins, and he did not. Three days later a nurse came through the market asking for the rose lady, and Hanna wrapped the bottle in newspaper and walked it up Cross Lane herself, through puddles that had finally begun to drain.