Black and grey shaded daisy tattoo on the upper arm, with a partly visible Roman numeral tattoo above it.

Shaded daisy on upper arm

Botanical · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A large daisy with layered petals and a dense, dotted centre is tattooed on the upper arm. The petals are shaded in black and grey with soft gradients and dark edges, giving them depth. The flower is centred on the arm, with a partly visible Roman numeral tattoo at the top edge of the frame.

Botanical Realism Upper arm Daisy Flower Petal Roman numeral

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The dodgems were already sparking when Mam sent me back for the cash tin, so I was the only one who saw Walter Pell sit down on the damp grass behind the generator and start pulling petals from a daisy. He wasn't saying he loves me or he loves me not. He was counting under his breath, the way Dad counted the takings on a Sunday, lips moving, eyes on the far hedge.

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Walter had worked the Gallopers for Harrow's fair since before I was born. His carriage was the one with the faded number XI painted on its canopy, the one that always stuck at the top of the wheel until he thumped it with the heel of his hand. He kept a spanner in his waistcoat pocket and had never once, in my hearing, been seen sitting down in the grass. 'It's the odd ones that matter,' he said when he noticed me. 'Even numbers get you nothing. Forty years I've been trying for an odd count and the blessed thing keeps coming out even.'

I asked him how many petals his daisy had. He said he'd lost track somewhere around the ninth, which he claimed was the real trouble with flowers, they never tell you the rules. Then he tipped the stem toward the light so I could see the centre, dense and dotted like the bulbs on the Gallopers when they come on at dusk, and said that was the bit he had never managed to get right on the back of a ticket.

The fair pulled out on Tuesday. When I came back from the van with the tin, Walter was still on the grass with the stripped stem in his hand. I plucked the last petal myself, the one with the dark edge that had caught the generator's heat, and held it up. 'One,' I said. He laughed until the spanner slid out of his waistcoat and dropped into the grass, and said it was the only sum he'd ever been sure of.