Close up of large red rose tattoos with green leaves and grey scrollwork across a hip and buttock, partly covered by pink underwear.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Red roses across a hip and buttock

Neo-trad · Other · Colour · Photo

The tattoo shows several large red roses with dark shaded petals, bright highlights and green leaves. Grey and cream scrollwork fills the gaps between the flowers and blends into the skin. The photograph is a close, angled view of the hip and buttock with bright pink underwear crossing the frame.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The apples came down early that year, bruising in the long grass, and Hannah Tull went along the rows with a basket on each arm because her father had gone to the fair at Ludlow and not come back. Behind the old cider press the roses had gone wild. Nobody had pruned them since her mother died. They climbed the trunks of the Blenheim trees and spilled over the wall, red as sealing wax, and in the evenings the bees grew so drunk on them they could hardly fly.

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On the ninth evening a grey man came up the lane with a donkey and no cart. He asked for water, and she gave it to him in a chipped mug. He looked at the roses for a long time, then at the ironwork of ivy that curled round the gatepost. "Those are owed to me," he said. "Every bloom is a year somebody forgot to pay." She asked what he wanted for the debt. He said only that she keep the roses cut back, and never let a single one go to hip before the frost, because the hips were where the forgotten years went to sleep.

She agreed, thinking it a madman's talk. All September she cut and cut, and the flowers came back faster than she could take them, and the basket at the gate filled with petals the colour of plums. She tied them in bunches with grey thread and left them on the wall for passing walkers. By the first frost the orchard smelled like a wedding and like a cellar.

When her father came home in October, he walked past the wall without looking, stopped, and then sat down in the wet grass. "I left you a debt," he said. "I'd forgotten I owed a man a season." Hannah held out a bunch of the cut roses. He took them, and the thorns did not catch his hands. Up the lane the donkey's tracks were already filling with leaves, and the roses on the wall stayed red.

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