Three views of a wooden artist's hand drawn with a black and grey sphynx cat with a third eye and crescent moon on the palm, a bird skull with crossed bones on the forearm, and PURR EVIL lettering on

Sphynx cat and bird skull designs on a wooden hand

Black and grey · Flash

Three photographs of a wooden artist's mannequin hand show drawn tattoo-style designs: a sphynx cat with a third eye and crescent moon on the palm, a bird skull with crossed bones on the forearm, and PURR EVIL lettering across the fingers. The cat and skull are rendered in fine black linework with grey shading and radiating hatch marks around them. The mannequin and designs are shown against a plain black background with no colour ink.

Cat Sphynx cat Third eye Crescent moon Skull Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rook had been dead a week when Agnes dug it out from under the runner beans and carried it up the path in a seed tray, as though she had found a lost teaspoon. She set it on the potting bench beside the twine and the cracked pots and announced that the bird had been waiting for us, which was the sort of thing she said before lunch and never after.

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Tuppence, who had no fur and therefore no excuse for being so pleased with herself, climbed onto the bench and sat with her wrinkled grey chin lifted towards the wall, where the crescent moon hangs over the gate. Agnes swears she has a third eye somewhere beneath all that skin, and Tuppence, who never contradicts anyone, has never denied it.

Beyond the greenhouse, propped against the water butt, stood the wooden hand Agnes's husband had bought at a sale in Shrewsbury before the war. Its fingers were painted with words he never explained, PURR and EVIL, one letter to each joint, so that the hand looked as if it were spelling out an argument. Agnes hung her gloves on its wrist. That evening I laid the rook's skull in its open palm, and the cat stepped up beside it as though she had been asked to witness a signing.

By morning the beans had climbed the fingers and the skull had gone grey with dew. Two slugs had crossed the bones in a neat X, and Tuppence was asleep in the hollow of the palm, purring at a wall she could not see. Agnes said the hand had been waiting for a tenant. I did not argue. The garden had its arrangements, and I was only the one who weeded.