Loose, sketchy black and grey skull with rabbit ears and ink splatter tattooed on the outer thigh, with a touch of pale blue.

Skull with rabbit ears on a thigh

Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

A human skull with long rabbit ears sits on the outer thigh, with the face and jaw drawn in dark, loose strokes. The linework is broken and sketchy, with shading built from grey washes and scattered ink splatter spreading down the leg. Ink is almost entirely black and grey, with small patches of pale blue and red near the skull.

Thigh Skull Ink splatter

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The hare had been sitting in the middle of the Saltpan road for three evenings before I stopped the van. It wasn't running or dead, just sitting with its ears laid flat against the wind as if it were waiting for a lift. I got out with the water can and the bad coffee, and it watched me come the way a bored magistrate watches a man who has already confessed.

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Its ears were the thing. Long and grey, streaked like old newsprint where the sun had worked at them. When the wind shifted the dust off its head, there was a skull underneath, yellowed and bare, with the jaw hanging open as if the animal had been caught mid-sentence. I had heard the stories from the fuel attendant at Coyle Creek, about a hare that wore the face of Abel Thorne, who walked off the gypsum works with a debt he never settled. I had laughed at him. The hare did not laugh.

I poured water into my hat and held it down. It drank slowly, and when I reached to lift the hat, a spray of ink-dark grit came up off the tarmac and over my wrist, and the skull turned its eyeless gaze to my face. It told me, in a voice like a gate hinge, that I owed the Bartholomew family a rent receipt, and that I had been driving its roads for nine years without once asking whose they were.

I drove the rest of the way with the window down and the empty can rolling on the seat beside me. At the next junction I wrote the cheque and posted it from Coyle Creek. When I came back past the Saltpan turn, the hare was gone, and the road was clean except for a grey smudge across the white line, spreading slowly towards the sand.