Black and grey realistic tattoo of rolled US hundred dollar bills secured with bands, covering the back of a hand.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Rolled dollar bills on the back of a hand

Realism · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

A realistic tattoo of several rolled US hundred dollar bills, bound with elastic bands, covers the back of a hand. The bills show fine shading, creases and visible portrait and "100" denominations. Shading is smooth and dense in black and grey, giving the rolls depth and a three-dimensional look against the skin.

Realism Hand Money Dollar bill Banknote

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

By the third night the snow had closed the road over Carrick Fell, and nobody was going anywhere until the plough came through. Ada Pike wiped the bar twice, then a third time, because her hands wanted something to do while the stranger in room four kept coming down the stairs to ask whether the telephone line was back yet.

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His name was Lyle Brandt and he sold industrial pumps, or said he did. He had a roll of hundred-dollar notes held with two red elastic bands, and he kept it on the oak counter, turning it over like a man who had nowhere else to put his thoughts. Ada had seen rolls like that before. Her father used to say cash rolled that tight was cash somebody wanted you to notice.

Lyle proposed cribbage at a pound a point. When Ada took the first game he pushed the roll across the board as a stake for the second, and she didn't want it. She wanted the road open and a quiet bar and a guest who paid for his whisky. But the pegs were already moving, the fire was ticking in the grate, and the clock behind her counted off the minutes like coins on a tray.

She won the second game by a single hole. Lyle laughed a little too loudly and said the money was hers if she'd only let him sleep. Ada slid one note out from the band, looked at the old president staring back at her, and pushed the rest across the wood. At first light the plough's amber lamp swept the window, and Lyle was gone, leaving the bands snapped on the floor. Ada counted the notes into the till, because it was the only honest thing in the room.