Realism tattoo of an orange goldfish with flowing grey-tipped fins on the forearm, shown in a blurred workshop setting.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Realistic goldfish on a forearm

Realism · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A photograph of a large goldfish tattoo on the forearm, seen head-on with its eye and mouth detailed and its tail fins trailing back across the skin. The fish is rendered with soft shading and fine scale and fin detail in orange, with grey and cream tones in the fins. The background is a blurred indoor workspace, and the arm is angled across the frame with the tattoo as the clear focal point.

Realism Forearm Goldfish Fish

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Priya, you asked me to write properly, so here it is on the good paper from the Crown Hotel, the only thing in the function room that has not been rearranged since 1994. The reunion was a shambles. Mr Dunlop still calls everyone by their Year Nine nickname, Gareth gave a slideshow about his garden centre, and the buffet ran out of sausage rolls before the speeches.

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Do you remember Sheila? The orange goldfish we won at the Hallowe'en fair and kept on the windowsill of the biology lab all spring term, the one Mrs Okonedo fed crushed Hobnobs when she thought nobody was looking. One Monday the tank was empty and there was a wet trail across the lino towards the art room sink. Nobody ever owned up. We all assumed she had gone down the plughole with the paint water.

Then, by the bar, Danny Coyle found me with a pint in each hand and said he had been the one who moved her. He had carried her across the field in a Tupperware tub under his blazer, because he thought she was dying of boredom, and tipped her into the pond behind the caretaker's shed. She was still there years later, he said, a flash of orange under the lily pads whenever the kids from the estate threw bread in. The pond was filled in last summer for a car park. He stood there with the pints going warm and looked as if he might cry, and I did not know what to say.

So I am writing to ask whether you still have that postcard from Cornwall, the one that said keep her alive, I mean it. I have bought a goldfish. She is in a bowl on my kitchen table, she is the colour of a struck match, and I tell her about you every morning.