Coloured pencil flash design of a pocket watch with a blue face, red flowers, green leaves and a Home Sweet Home banner, with no body placement shown.

Pocket watch and Home Sweet Home banner

Traditional · Mixed · Flash

A drawn design of an ornate pocket watch with a bead-edged chain, a blue centre and a patterned rim, framed by red and brown flowers and green leaves. A cream banner across the lower half reads HOME SWEET HOME in blue-grey capitals. The bold dark outlines are filled with coloured pencil shading on a plain white background.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The last tent comes down in a Lancashire field with the rain already coming sideways, and you are the one left holding the centre pole while the others haul on the guy ropes. Your grandfather's pocket watch rides in your coat pocket where it has sat for forty years, its bead chain looped twice around a brass button. Nobody has told you to leave it behind. Nobody has told you anything since the bank rang about the mortgage on the big top.

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Mrs Dorrance, who ran the ticket booth and kept the accounts in pencil, finds you at the lorry with a mug of tea gone cold. She taps the trailer door, where someone once painted HOME SWEET HOME in cream letters and then went over them in blue-grey so often the paint has curled like a banner. "Your granddad wound that every morning before the first house," she says. "Said it was the only honest thing in the company, because it never once pretended the crowd was bigger than it was."

You open the case. The face is the blue of a sky painted too early in the day, the rim ringed with tiny numerals nobody could ever read without spectacles. The hands have stopped at ten past seven, the hour the lions were fed. You wind it anyway, slowly, the way he showed you, until the second hand starts its stubborn walk.

The lorries pull out at dawn with the others, and you stay in the empty field a moment longer. Somewhere beyond the hedge a dog barks at nothing. You set the watch by your own pulse and climb into the cab. For the first time in your life, the tick in your pocket is the only audience left, and it does not clap.

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