Realistic tattoo of a red rose under a glass dome with petals on the base, shaded in grey and red across the upper arm.

Red rose under a glass dome on upper arm

Realism · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A red rose on a black stem sits under a grey glass dome, with small droplets rising beside it and red petals scattered on the surface below. The dome and base are rendered in soft black and grey shading with smooth gradients, while the rose and petals carry the only strong colour, with a red glow behind the flower. The tattoo wraps around the upper arm and fills most of the frame, with the wearer's hair and a grey top at the edges.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The third petal came away while I was still wiping the glass, and I held my breath as though that would keep the others on.

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Nobody in the village below the walls believes there was ever a garden up here. They say the castle has been roofless since my grandfather's day, that the great hall is a heap of nettles and sheep dung, and they are right about all of it except the bell jar. It sits on the lip of the old chapel altar, grey with dust, and under it the rose has gone on being a rose for far longer than anyone should allow.

I come up each morning with a cloth and a jug of rainwater from the cistern. The droplets that gather on the inside of the dome are not mine to explain. I wipe them away and they return by noon, bright as spilled pearls, and I have stopped asking why. My mother said the rose was a debt that passed down with the keys. She also said the wind had opinions, so I weigh her words accordingly.

This morning the petals on the stone were redder than yesterday and there were four of them, not two. I counted them twice. I picked up the one nearest the door and carried it down the spiral stair in my closed fist, past the arrow slits and the sleeping bats, out into the bright lane where the carter was unloading flour. He asked what I had. I opened my hand. The petal was fresh and cold as a coin, and by the time I reached the gate it had softened into a single bead of water that ran down my wrist as if it knew the way back up.

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