Black and grey realism tattoo on a forearm showing a smiling woman above and a young man in a military side cap below.

Realistic portraits of a woman and a soldier on a forearm

Realism · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two portraits are tattooed on a forearm, a smiling woman with shoulder-length dark hair at the top and a young man in a side cap below. The man wears a cap with a circular badge and the numeral 8, and his face is rendered with fine stippling and soft tonal shading. The image uses a dark background, with the arm filling the frame diagonally and the lower portrait in sharp focus.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The windfalls had begun to split in the long grass by the last week of August, and Nell Ashby moved between the Bramley trees with a wicker basket on her hip, watching the lane for the post van. Her brother Danny had been gone eleven weeks, sent to a camp near Thetford in a cap that never sat straight on his head. Their mother said a watched lane brings nothing, so Nell watched it anyway.

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The letter came on the Thursday, folded into quarters and smelling faintly of diesel. It said very little. He had seen the sea from the deck of a troopship and did not want to describe it. Could she send the photograph from the mantelpiece, the one taken at Kendal's studio in Dorking, because the lads in his hut kept asking who the girl was. Nell read it twice at the kitchen table, laughed once, and then did not laugh again.

She climbed the ladder to the high branches and picked the last apples by hand, twisting them the way Dad had taught them when she was small, never pulling. A wasp walked across her wrist and she let it go. Down in the lane a bicycle bell rang, and she thought it was the postman, but it was only Mrs Pryce's boy with the milk churns rattling on the carrier.

That evening she wrapped the photograph in oilcloth, sealed it with brown tape, and laid one unblemished Bramley on top of it in a cardboard box. She wrote the address in careful capitals and then, underneath, in smaller letters, the words Eat this one slowly. The box sat on the windowsill all night, the apple's green cheek catching the last of the light.

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