Black and grey realism tattoo of a rose and an open pocket watch with Roman numerals on the forearm.

Rose and pocket watch on a forearm

Realism · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A detailed tattoo of a rose with soft petal shading sits beside a pocket watch with Roman numerals, its chain looping below the face. The shading is smooth and tonal, with strong highlights on the petals and watch case and small droplets on the rose. The design is in black and grey and fills the forearm, with a blurred background behind the arm.

Realism Forearm Rose Pocket watch Clock Roman numeral Chain

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Ned Corrie climbed the broken stair at Greywater Keep with his father's pocket watch in his fist, because the old lord had promised a sack of barley to anyone who could make the last clock in the place tell the true hour. The keep had no roof left. Rain had pooled in the great chamber, a briar had pushed up through the hearth, and a wild rose hung red over the window where the glass used to be.

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The clock was a brass drum on an oak beam, its face gone green, both hands pointing at the same numeral as if they had agreed on something. Ned knelt and held his father's watch against it. His watch ticked steadily and the clock did not. A dewdrop sat on a petal below the sill and refused to fall. His feet ached from eleven miles of road, and he said so out loud, which was foolish, since there was nobody to be embarrassed in front of.

An old woman's voice came from the rubble. She was feeding hens in the lower court and had clearly been listening. The clock, she said, only kept the hour of whoever had last loved the place enough to stay. Ned said he had no such love for a ruin. She told him that was the truth and the clock knew it, then went back to her hens. So he sat on the cold flags and thought about his father, who had left for the mill towns years ago and never sent word. He turned the watch over and set its hands to the hour he had last seen that man's face.

The great clock gave one slow tock. Outside, the rose let its dewdrop go, and it struck the stone with a sound like a small bell. Ned left the watch on the sill for the next traveller, and walked home before dark to see whether anyone had lit the lamp.