Illustrated design of a yellow pineapple merged with a skull, wearing pink sunglasses and topped with teal leaves, drawn in bold line art.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Pineapple skull wearing sunglasses

Colour · Flash

The drawing shows a skull whose cranium is shaped like a pineapple, with its crown of spiky teal leaves rising above. Pink tinted sunglasses sit across the eye sockets, and the pineapple texture is rendered with scribbled yellow and orange outlines. The design is isolated on a plain white background with a full, centred composition.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The Patience had come home from the Dogger grounds three seasons running with empty nets, and by the fourth the fleet at Mallow Cove had decided she was cursed. Old Tamsin Rudd said it was the figurehead. The carved woman had split in a gale and been nailed back with the wrong sort of nails, and a thing mended badly will not sail true.

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A trader came in on the Tuesday tide from the southern isles, sweating in a linen coat, with a crate of pineapples he swore had come off a ship from the sun. Tamsin bought one for a dozen mackerel. That night she sat by the net loft with a fish knife and carved the fruit into a skull, scooping eyes from the yellow scales and working a grin into the base. From a drowned chandler's box she took a pair of pink tinted spectacles, pressed them across the sockets, and lashed the whole thing to the bow where the woman had been.

They went out on the Thursday into a fog thick enough to lean on. Men who had fished that water for forty years lost their bearings twice before noon. Then a boy at the rail shouted, and they saw a pink glint sitting low in the murk, grinning at them as if it had seen everything and found it funny. The Patience followed it home through the rocks at Scarrow Point, and every boat behind her did the same.

The fruit rotted by autumn, as fruit does, and Tamsin replaced it each spring with another from the same trader, who never charged her twice. The glasses are still bright and the boat still lands her catch. Nobody in the cove has asked why a fishing boat should want sunshine on her bow, and nobody has offered to take the skull down.

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