Small pixel art tattoo of a trainer in a red cap beside Pikachu on the forearm, shown in black, red and yellow ink.

Pixel art trainer and Pikachu on a forearm

Forearm · Mixed · Photo

Two small pixel art figures sit side by side on the forearm: a figure in a red cap and dark clothing on the left, and a yellow Pikachu with red cheeks on the right. The blocky, stepped outlines are solid black with flat fills, with no shading. Colour is limited to red, yellow and a small amount of blue, set against lightly freckled skin.

Forearm Pixel art Pokemon Video game Cap

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The lodger in number four left on a Tuesday, before the breakfast gong, with his rucksack over one shoulder and the bus timetable folded in his fist. He forgot his handheld under the mattress. I found it while stripping the bed, a grey brick with a cracked corner and a sun sticker peeling off the back.

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I switched it on out of nosiness, expecting nothing but a flat battery. Instead the screen woke in blocky greens and browns: a tiny figure in a red cap and black jacket standing in long grass, and beside him a yellow creature with red cheeks and a zigzag tail, both drawn in squares you could count. The little man was called Dan, according to the save, and he had been walking the same route for eleven days.

I spent the afternoon with the sea wind rattling the sash, steering Dan through a cave, past a lake, up a ladder of stone. The yellow one trotted at his heels, and every time something hit them the cheeks flashed bright, then faded back to the same patient colour. By teatime I had found the address on the sticker's inside flap, a flat above a chemist in Leeds, and gone down to the post office for a stamp.

The last entry showed Dan at the edge of a town with no name yet, the yellow friend still at his heels. I wrapped the handheld in bubble wrap, unwrapped it, pressed the button once more and watched the pair stand facing the sea. I posted it on Thursday. Some nights since, I hear a faint electronic chirp through the wall of number four, and I tell myself it is only the gulls.