Colourful Japanese style tattoo of Hello Kitty, My Melody and Badtz-Maru on lotus flowers with cherry blossoms and wind swirls, across an upper arm and shoulder.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Sanrio characters and lotus flowers on an upper arm

Japanese · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

The tattoo covers the upper arm and shoulder with Hello Kitty, My Melody and Badtz-Maru, each seated on a lotus flower, with cherry blossom sprigs and petals scattered between them. Wispy grey wind or smoke lines run across the skin behind the figures. The characters use bold outlines and flat colour in red, pink, black, purple and teal, while the swirls are soft grey shading on the skin, and the design wraps down the arm from the top of the shoulder.

Japanese Upper arm Shoulder Hello kitty Lotus Cherry blossom Petal

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody claims the keyrings. That was the rule I had made for myself at the lost property hatch at Hebden Bridge, where three years of forgotten things settled into grey plastic crates: umbrellas, a single crutch, a bag of enamel pins, and a pale pink character with a hood and a flower tucked behind one ear. I kept the pins pinned to a corkboard behind the counter because commuters laughed at the grumpy penguin with the scowl like a slammed door.

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On the third Thursday of March a man in a wet railway anorak asked for a purse. He described it carefully: brown leather, a clasp shaped like a bird, and inside, something he had put there in 1998 and never taken out. I told him the system only held what had been handed in, and he nodded as if that was what he expected. His name was Tomasz Wrenn and he had been a signalman at Todmorden for thirty years, which explained the way he watched the platform clock rather than my face.

The purse wasn't in the crates, but I found it in the bottom of the bag of pins, wedged among keyrings nobody had wanted. When I opened it there were no coins, only three lotus petals pressed flat and gone the colour of weak tea. He touched them with one finger and said his sister had collected them from a pond behind the allotments, the summer before she moved south, and that he had never managed to throw them away.

I gave him the pink character from the corkboard, the one with the flower behind her ear, and told him she was lost property now. He laughed, put the pin in his pocket, and walked out to catch the 16:12 with the purse closed in his hand. I left the penguin up where he could see him from the platform, scowling at the rain.