Realism black and grey sleeve tattoo on an upper arm and shoulder, with teal swallows, a pocket watch, a Roman numeral clock face, and a skull and rose on the back.

Realism clock, bird and skull sleeve

Realism · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A full sleeve covers the upper arm, shoulder and part of the forearm, with two teal-and-grey swallows in flight above a pocket watch and a large Roman numeral clock face. Lower down, a filigree heart locket with a teal gem sits beside snowflakes and an ornate key, and a skull and rose spread across the upper back. Shading is smooth and highly detailed, with black and grey tones dominating and teal used as the main accent colour.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody had wound the platform four clock since Ada Brierley retired, so when the swallows came back to nest in its iron housing that April, the stationmaster said we'd leave it be. It ran eleven minutes slow and nobody on the 7.14 seemed to mind. I was the relief porter then, which meant I got the jobs nobody wanted, and one of them was sweeping the lost property cupboard under the stairs.

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That was where I found the pocket watch, its silver case worn soft at the edges, and a heart locket on a faded ribbon with a teal stone in it, the colour of the sea off Whitby. The key was tied to the ribbon with a bit of green wool. Inside the watch lid someone had scratched a date, 1962, and under it the word Home. I took them to the office and was told to put them back, because unclaimed things had to stay unclaimed for ninety days. I didn't. I kept them in my coat and carried them up the ladder on the first hard frost.

The swallows had gone south by then. Their nest was a mud cup tucked behind the Roman numerals, and I held it in my palm and it weighed nothing at all. I wound the clock with the key from the locket. It fitted the housing as if it had been cut for it, and the minute hand jumped forward eleven minutes with a sound like a held breath let go.

Down on the platform the 7.14 pulled in on time. I stood at the foot of the ladder with Ada's watch in my pocket and felt it ticking against my ribs, now in step with the station. I left the locket on the ledge under the clock for whoever came next, the ribbon hanging down like a question.

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