Black and grey realism tattoo of a man wearing a snapback cap, with a hand beside his face, on the forearm.

Realism portrait of a man in a cap

Realism · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A large portrait of a man in a snapback cap, with his hand raised beside his face and his eyes looking toward the viewer. The shading is smooth and detailed, with soft grey tones across the cap, skin and hand, and fine highlights on the cap and cheeks. The image shows the tattoo twice side by side on a darker skin tone, with a plain background around the design.

Realism Forearm Portrait Man Cap Hand Face

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The slips came out of Dennis's jacket already damp, fanned in one hand the way he dealt patience at the back of the Crown, as if the odds were a hand he could still win. Sol took them at the window without reading the figures. He had worked the counter at Harrow Road Greyhounds for nineteen years and knew a man who needed money by the way he kept his eyes on the ceiling fan instead of the till.

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"Fourth race is a certainty," Dennis said. "Brindle bitch, Nelly Ruin. Runs like she owes somebody."

Sol counted the slips twice. Eleven pounds four shillings across six lines, and none of them touched the fourth. Outside, the rain came sideways off the car park and the tote board flickered between the names of dogs that had already lost. Dennis tapped the counter with a nicotine finger and said nothing else, which was the most honest thing he had said all afternoon.

Nelly Ruin came in at twenty to one. Sol heard the roar through the wall before the board updated, then watched Dennis's face go through three different shapes before settling into something almost peaceful. He didn't collect. He left the winning slip on the counter, folded once, and walked out into the wet with his hand still raised as though he were waving someone down. Sol pinned the slip to the corkboard above the register, where it stayed until the paper went soft and brown and nobody could read the name anymore.