Side view of a neck with a realistic greyscale eye tattoo with a blue iris, set within a flame-like shape, a colour leaf design to the right and script lettering below.

Realistic eye tattoo on the side of the neck

Realism · Neck · Mixed · Photo

A realistic eye is framed by a flame-like shape of black and grey shading on the side of the neck. The eye has a blue iris and fine detail in the lashes and lid, with smooth grey shading and some dark smudged areas around it. A partly visible colour leaf design sits on the right, and a line of script lettering runs along the bottom edge of the frame.

Realism Lettering Neck Eye Flame Leaves Script

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The smoke alarm on fourteen had been chirping since midnight, and Joan Akers was the only person in Calder House awake enough to hear it. She took the stairs because the lift had been out since June, her torch swinging over the concrete and the bin chute doors with their tired graffiti. On the second-floor landing the painted eye looked back at her from the wall, the same as it had since the residents' association had commissioned it in 1989 to shame the kids who kept setting fire to the bins. Joan had walked past it for eleven years without once looking properly.

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The smell reached her on the twelfth floor, sharp and greasy. Flat 14C's door was warm under her palm. Inside, a chip pan was flaring on the hob and the kitchen ceiling had gone the colour of tea. She soaked a tea towel under the tap, smothered the pan the way Mr Fenwick had taught the new wardens at training, and dragged the window open with her hip. Mr Fenwick himself was asleep in his armchair with the telly muttering, and when she shook his shoulder he blinked at her as if she were the one who had the wrong flat.

She called it in from the landing, her hands not quite steady. While she waited for the crew, she found herself staring up at the mural. In the torchlight she could see the flame-shaped shadow curling around the eye, and beneath it a long black scorch on the paint where the wall had been licked by heat years ago. She had always taken it for damp. Joan wrote the time in her log, quarter past two, and then, because nobody else was going to, she added a line underneath: The eye saw it first.