Forearm tattoo of a stacked spacecraft with black linework over a purple, pink and blue watercolour galaxy background.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Spacecraft over a watercolour galaxy on a forearm

Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A vertical stack of spacecraft modules, drawn with black outlines and grey detailing, runs down the forearm. The craft sit over a loose background of purple, pink and blue watercolour washes with scattered specks suggesting stars. The photo is cropped to the forearm and the wearer's jeans and grey top, with a black and white checkered floor behind.

Forearm Galaxy Star Space

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

By four the flour has settled into everything, the rails, the scales, the fine pale dust on my forearms, and I've stopped noticing it the way I've stopped noticing the hum of the proving cabinet. Dev comes in at half four with his hood still up and nods at the tins. His nephew wants a loaf for the christening shaped like a rocket, and Dev thinks I'm the woman to ask, because I once made a Christmas stollen that looked like a sleigh.

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The model on my windowsill is the reason I said yes. My father built it from a kit in 1979, four pieces glued into a column, the paint gone the colour of weak tea. He told me the bottom module was the engine room and the top was where the sandwiches went. When I was small I thought the whole stack was a lighthouse that had decided to go to space. The dough on the bench has no such ambitions. It sulks in the cold corner and refuses to rise, so I give it a warm cloth and a bit of patience and an apology in my head.

By six I've baked three round tins and stacked them with a band of butter between each, the way Dad stacked his plastic bits with a dab of glue. The sky over the car park has turned from ink to a bruised violet, then to the pink of the washes Dev's nephew has been sketching for his own arm. I slide the tray out and the top loaf splits along a seam, a clean line of white showing through the crust. I stand in the doorway with the first light across the tiles, holding a thing that was never going to stay in one piece, and I eat the heel while it's still too hot to hold.