Realism tattoo of two red roses and an open pocket watch with Roman numerals, surrounded by grey swirling shading, on the side of a hip.

Red roses and pocket watch on a hip

Realism · Other · Mixed · Photo

The tattoo shows two realistic red roses, one near the top and one lower down, with an open gold pocket watch between them whose face displays Roman numerals and hands. Soft grey shading and white-highlighted swirling forms fill the background and give depth around the flowers. The rich red and gold tones dominate the composition, with the watch and roses placed diagonally across the skin.

Realism Other Rose Pocket watch Clock Swirl Flower

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The watch came in on a Tuesday, wrapped in a red handkerchief that smelled of rain and rosewater, and the man who left it would not give his name. He said only that it had stopped at twenty to four and that his mother wanted it going before Sunday. I told him Sunday was tight. He said she had always been particular about time.

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I opened the case under the lamp. The gold had worn to brass at the hinge, and someone had pressed a rose between the lid and the dial so long ago that the petal had gone the colour of old wine and crackled when I breathed on it. I left it where it lay. Pell, who taught me the trade, used to say a watch keeps the secrets of whoever winds it, and you do not go digging for them with tweezers.

The movement was sound. A little dried oil, a hairline crack in the mainspring that I could fit by Saturday. I set the hands to the hour the man had given and let the balance swing, and it caught, ticking as steady as a heartbeat under a blanket. When I tilted the dial to the light I saw that the hour hand had been bent back by a careless thumb, and beneath the bend, very faint, someone had scratched two initials and a date.

On Saturday I rang the number on the docket. A woman answered before the second ring, and when I told her it was running she was quiet for so long I thought the line had died. Then she said, 'Keep the petal, love. He always did press them in there,' and I heard the wind rattle the roses on her windowsill before she hung up.