Fine line tattoo of Snow White holding a red apple to her lips, outlined in black with red accents on the leg.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Snow White holding an apple on a leg

Fine line · Other · Mixed · Photo

A black outline drawing of Snow White in profile, holding a red apple up near her face, with red-filled details on her sleeves and dress. The linework is clean and even, and the unfilled areas show the skin tone, so the figure appears light against the leg. The composition fills the frame with the figure curving down the limb, on a plain background with a dark area to the right.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The ovens were already ticking when Mrs Vosper set a tray of windfall apples on your bench and told you to core them before the bread came out. It was twenty to five. Flour lay over everything like frost, and the window above the sink was still black, so you could see yourself in it: sleeves pushed up, hair tied in a scarf, a paring knife in your hand.

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She had a trick with the Bramleys. Peel in one long curl, she said, and the curl will tell you if the fruit is sound. You tried, and yours snapped twice. She laughed without unkindness and took the next one herself, the red skin coming away in a spiral that dropped onto the board like a ribbon. "Pretty things lie," she said. "Keep your eyes on the flesh, not the shine."

The first van pulled up outside at ten past five, its headlights sweeping across the shutters. A man came in for a split tin and asked after the girl who used to sell the apple turnovers, the one with the laugh like a kettle. You told him she had gone up to Harrowgate to marry a sailor. Mrs Vosper looked at you over her glasses and said nothing, which was how you knew you'd told it well.

Dawn came up grey over the car park. You slid the last tart into the glass case, its top glossy and red, and at the far end of the tray you saw the one apple you had never got round to peeling, still whole and bright as a warning. You left it there on purpose.

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