Watercolour style thigh tattoo of flying silhouettes passing a clock tower below a moon with a ship, set on a splash of pink, blue and teal.

Peter Pan silhouettes and clock tower on thigh

Thigh · Colour · Photo

Black silhouettes of flying figures and a ship sit against a clock tower with a lit clock face, all framed by a loose black circular outline. The moon, sky and surrounding splashes are painted in soft pink, purple, blue and teal with sparkling dots and a faded, blended edge. The tattoo fills the outer thigh, with the tower running down the centre and the ring and splashes spreading across the skin.

Thigh Clock face Moon Silhouette Star Watercolour splashes Flying figure

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The clock had lost four minutes since Tuesday, and Ada Fenwick knew before she reached the top of the stairs who had been tampering with the weights. Only one visitor came up the iron ladder after the last bell, and he never once used the door.

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She found him sitting on the rim of the clock face, heels knocking against the glass of the minute hand, his shadow pooled beside him on the slate like spilt ink. 'You've been slowing it,' she said. He grinned without looking round. 'Only the bit that counts. If the hour stops, the children stop with it, and then where would I be? Nowhere. Nobody fancies nowhere.'

Ada had tended the works for thirty-one years, long enough to know that time did not need stopping, only minding. She stepped out onto the ledge, wind tugging at her cardigan, and below them the city lay in pink and teal under a moon like a sugared plate. A ship with smoke for sails drifted across it, and a crow flew alongside, pretending not to be impressed. 'Come down with me,' the boy said, 'and you'll never have to be on time for anything again.'

She thought of her husband's pocket watch, stopped at the hour he died, and of the ledger she had not yet finished balancing. 'Show me the weights,' she said. He laughed, delighted, and let go of the hand he had been holding. The minute hand jerked forward, and far below a child in a nightdress turned over in her sleep and dreamed of flying. Ada set the pendulum swinging, and by morning the tower was exactly right again.