Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Small giraffe tattoo on an ankle
Ankle · Black and grey · Photo
A small giraffe stands side-on, facing left, with a long neck and legs. It has a clean black outline and solid black spots filling the body, in a simple, cartoon-like drawing. The image is in black and grey only, and the close crop of the lower leg shows the black sandal and carpeted floor around it.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Mrs Okonedo signed for the crate before anyone thought to ask what was in it, which was the first of several mistakes the council would later write up in triplicate. The driver had wedged it between the wheelie bins and the privet on Marlow Road, and by the time Dennis from number eleven came out in his slippers, whatever was inside had already put its head over the hedge and started on the marigolds.
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It was a giraffe. Not a large one, Dennis insisted afterwards, though it reached the upstairs bathroom window and looked in with the calm of a deacon. It had black spots the size of dinner plates and a neck that seemed to have been drawn with a ruler, and it stood side-on in the lane, facing left, as if waiting for a bus cancelled in 1974. Somebody rang the zoo. The zoo rang back to say they were not missing one, and rang off again to say so twice.
The council sent Gary, who had a clipboard and a sensible hat, and spent an afternoon trying to fill in the form. Category of animal: unknown. Tag number: none. Current location: the bottom of the garden, eating the Brunswick Road bunting. Gary tried to shift it with a bag of carrots, and the carrots went the way of the marigolds. By dusk the giraffe had made up its mind about the canal, and it walked down Marlow Road at a dignified pace, ducking the telephone wires with a small shake of its head.
Mrs Okonedo kept the crate. It still smells faintly of straw and something sweeter, and on the inside of the lid someone has written HOME in purple felt tip with an arrow pointing left. She never found out who had sent it. Some evenings she stands at the back gate and looks the way the arrow points, the way you would wait for a friend who is always going to be late.
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