Neo-traditional tattoo of a sleeping grey cat curled up beside a branch of blue berries and green leaves on the thigh.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Sleeping grey cat and blueberry branch on thigh

Neo-trad · Thigh · Mixed · Photo

A grey cat sleeps curled in a tight circle, head resting on its paws, with its ears and closed eyes visible. A branch of green leaves and clusters of blue blueberries arches over its back and sits within the outline of its body. The cat is shaded in soft greys with bold black outlines, while the leaves and berries are in bright greens and blues against pale skin.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The cat had claimed the lowest blueberry bush again, and Edie stood at the end of the row with her colander, deciding whether she had the nerve to disturb him. He was grey as wet slate and curled so tightly he might have been a dropped ball of wool, chin tucked onto his front paws, the ruff of his ears folded flat. Nobody on the allotments knew whose he was. He simply turned up each spring, the way the thrushes did, and took up residence in whatever patch was warmest.

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The bushes had come from cuttings Edie begged off Terry at the seed merchant's the year after the big frost, six woody sticks in a jam jar that she nursed along the kitchen windowsill until they rooted. Now they arched over the path, heavy with fruit that ripened from the inside out, a blue so dusted it looked like breath on glass. The birds had already stripped the top branches. The cat, she supposed, had decided the low ones were his to guard, and so far he had guarded them by sleeping directly beneath.

She crouched, knees complaining, and began to pick around him. Each berry came away with a soft tug and left a faint bloom of colour on her fingertips. When the colander was nearly full she reached for the last cluster hanging just above his back and stopped, because the leaves were rising and falling in time with his breathing. She let it hang. It would keep another day, and she had enough.

She was halfway to the gate when she heard the small click of claws on the path behind her. She turned. The cat had woken, stretched his whole length out like a question, and was sitting neatly in the middle of the gravel with a single blueberry set down in front of his paws, as if it were the rent.

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