Black and grey realism tattoo of a horned dinosaur skull on a bare female figure holding a flower, across the upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Skull-headed figure holding a flower on upper arm

Realism · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A surreal figure with a horned dinosaur skull for a head stands with a bare torso, holding a small flower against its chest. The linework is fine and the shading is soft and detailed, with the skull rendered in tonal greys. The design wraps over the shoulder and down the upper arm, with the figure's shoulder and torso following the curve of the arm.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The crate had been sitting under the strip lights at Carrow Point freight shed since six, and Marta Quill had already decided it was a cast. The manifest said plaster, museum loan, three pallets from a university in Calgary, and the stencilled warning on the side had been stuck over a cartoon dinosaur in a bow tie. Her colleague Dev lifted one corner with the pallet jack and swore. "Plaster doesn't do that."

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She cut the tape. Inside, wrapped in foam and yellowed pages of a Calgary paper, lay a skull the length of her forearm, all horn and bone frill, its eye sockets dark as wet slate. Tucked beneath the brow, where a nose should have been, was a pressed cornflower gone the colour of stewed tea. Nothing about it looked moulded. The bone had grain. Hairline cracks ran along the frill, mended with brown glue by someone very patient with a small brush.

She rang the number on the manifest. A woman answered on the fourth ring, sounding like she was eating toast. "Oh, the head," she said. "Did you find the flower? My father put that in. He said it would keep the customs men from asking too many questions." Marta laughed despite herself and asked whether the paperwork could say what the thing actually was. The woman sighed. Her father had been a fossil man who never once filled in a form correctly, and the paperwork, she said, would say plaster for as long as anyone needed it to.

Marta stamped the release and initialled the box marked CLEARED. Before Dev wheeled the crate away, she eased the lid back down and left the flower where it was. It was not hers to take. The skull had been carried a long way, and she thought it had earned the right to arrive looking the way it had set out.

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