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Pink flowers and stems on a forearm
Botanical · Forearm · Colour · Photo
A cluster of pink and red flowers with open petals sits on a forearm, drawn with bold black outlines and long curving stems. The petals are filled with solid pink and red ink, with loose pink splashes beside the upper bloom. The composition runs vertically along the arm against a reflective silver background.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The bulbs came aboard at Malta in a crate stencilled with someone else's name, forty papery knuckles packed in sawdust, and by the third week out of Gibraltar they had all sprouted green fists in the tin trays I had nailed beneath the porthole of my cabin. Captain Ruddock called them a waste of good ballast. I called them my cargo and kept a ledger.
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The ship was the Tamar Belle, bound for Valparaíso with coal, wool and a cook who could not boil an egg. Ranunculus want cold nights and a steady hand with water, and the sea gave us neither. Every morning I carried the trays up to the poop deck in the thin light, turned them so the stems would not lean, and watched the buds swell from green to a hard pink that looked, against that grey swell, like something with no business being so bright.
In the Bay of Biscay a squall tore the lashings loose and two trays went over the rail. I went after them on my knees with the mate holding my belt, and when I came back up with mud to the elbows, one bloom had survived, crushed at one side but open, its petals the colour of a lamp through a red shade. Ruddock looked at it for a long time and said nothing, which from him was a kind of blessing.
We reached Valparaíso in April. I planted the survivors in a yard behind a chandler's shop, and by the next spring the ground was full of them, pink and red and loose as wet silk. The chandler's wife cut them for her table and asked where I had found such things. I told her the sea had sent them, and that they had cost me a good deal of mud.
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