Black and grey realism tattoo of a pump-action shotgun running down the upper arm of a man in a white vest.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Shotgun tattoo on an upper arm

Realism · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A detailed black and grey tattoo of a pump-action shotgun runs down the upper arm, with the stock and receiver at the top near the shoulder and the barrel ending near the elbow. The shading gives the metal a rounded, three-dimensional look, with highlights on the ribbed forend and soft grey tones on the receiver. The photograph is taken from the side and back, cropped so the person's head is not visible, against a plain white vest and a reddish background.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Now sit down, the pair of you, because the 4.10 is late again and it'll not hurry for anybody's nerves. Old Ferris had the signal box at Caddon Bridge the winter the river came up over the sleepers, and he kept a pump gun under the ticket counter, the way other men keep a Bible. Not for thieves. For the sheep dogs that came at the platform after the mail bags.

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The spring the viaduct was closed, a travelling man in a camel coat stepped off the milk train with a steel case chained to his wrist and asked Ferris where he might find the Lamberton siding. Ferris told him the siding was under four feet of water. The man said he would wait. He waited three days on that bench, eating pies from the Co-op and counting the rain against the glass, and every evening Ferris saw him polishing something under his coat.

On the fourth morning the case was gone and so was the man, and in his place lay a note in careful capitals: THE KEY IS WHERE THE RIVER LEFT IT. Ferris walked the bank for a week with his shotgun over his shoulder and found nothing but a rusted cartridge box and a child's boot.

Years later the signalman's grandson found the case wedged in the reeds below the bridge, empty but for a brass key and a faded photograph of a dog. Nobody ever learned what it opened. Ferris always said that was the best a pump gun could hope for, a good story and no one shot, and he kept it oiled until the day the line closed.

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