Small solid black scorpion tattoo on the lower abdomen above a teal skirt, with a butterfly belly button piercing visible nearby.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small scorpion tattoo on the lower abdomen

Other · Black and grey · Photo

A small scorpion silhouette in solid black ink sits on bare skin at the hip or lower abdomen, with its curled tail and pincers clearly defined. The tattoo is filled with flat black with no visible shading or greys, and the surrounding skin is warm toned. The composition is close and cropped at the waist, with a teal skirt and brown macrame belt below and a hand resting on the hip to the right.

Other Scorpion Butterfly Skin

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Ruth Ansell drove the salt road at dusk because the lorries were gone by then and the heat had let go of the tarmac. She carried a tin of boiled sweets, a jerry can of water and a letter for a man at the Dry Well post who had not written back in nine years. Nobody on the road ever asked her business. They only asked whether she had seen the scorpion.

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Her grandmother had told her that the scorpion walks the road ahead of anyone travelling alone, black as a burnt match, and it takes the shape of whatever you are most afraid to lose. Ruth thought this was nonsense until the van coughed at mile forty and she saw, in the headlights, a thing that curled its tail the way a question mark curls.

She got out. The air smelled of hot iron. The scorpion waited on the white line, pincers open, and did not move. "I'm not afraid of you," she said, which was a lie, and it seemed to know it.

She reached into the tin, took out the last sweet and set it on the line between them. The scorpion considered it, then turned and walked into the dark beside the road, slow and exact, tail held high. Ruth followed it with the torch until the light gave out. Then she walked back to the van, sat in the driver's seat, and found that the letter had gone soft in her palm.

At the Dry Well the man's son met her at the gate with a lamp. He read the envelope in the doorway and said his father had been expecting it. Ruth did not ask how he knew she would come. She turned the engine off and listened to the ticking of the cooling metal.