Black and grey realism tattoo of a rolled bundle of hundred dollar bills with a portrait and a large 100 on the forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Rolled hundred dollar bills on a forearm

Realism · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A realistic tattoo of a rolled stack of US hundred dollar bills wraps around the forearm, with the portrait and the number 100 clearly shaded. A large raised 100 sits at the bottom of the design on a curved panel. The shading uses smooth greys and sharp highlights to give the bills depth, and the tattoo fills most of the frame against a dark padded surface.

Realism Forearm Money Banknote Portrait

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Brother Osric had kept the cellar books at Saint Brannoc's for thirty-one winters, and he had never once seen a roll of money as thick as the one the carter left on the refectory table. It was tied with a length of red thread and banded with paper that read 100 in black letters, and when he eased the band off, the notes unwound like birch bark, grey-green and smelling of somebody else's pocket.

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The carter, a lean man called Hollis Dunmore, said he had won it at cards in the market town of Wexby and wanted it spent on the roof of the infirmary before his conscience caught up with him. The abbot, Father Teodor, did not trust gifts that arrived with a grin, so he sent for the old ferryman, who had carried more lies across the Wend than any man living, and asked him what the paper was worth.

Osric expected the ferryman to say nothing. Instead the man turned one note over, pressed his thumb on the face of the old statesman printed there, and said, "Worth a crossing for every soul in this valley, and a crossing back for the carter, if he asks me kindly." Then he laughed until he coughed, and the abbot did not laugh with him.

They spent the money on slates, not sins. Osric wrote each figure in the ledger the way the notes had taught him, one hundred and then one hundred again, until the page was a column of plain, honest hundreds. Father Teodor kept a single bill tucked in his sleeve for luck, and it was the only part of the gift that ever went anywhere it had not been asked to.