Traditional style tattoo on an upper arm of a pink sprinkled donut wrapped in brown banners reading AS THROUGH THIS LIFE WE ROLL, with green leaves and red berries.

Sprinkled donut with banner on upper arm

Traditional · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A pink-iced donut covered in multicoloured sprinkles sits at the centre of the design, with two brown scroll banners wrapped around it bearing the words AS THROUGH THIS LIFE WE ROLL. Bold black outlines and flat, solid fills give it a classic traditional look, with dark green leaves and red berries framing the top and bottom corners. The tattoo is shown up close on a limb against a plain light background.

Traditional Upper arm Sprinkles Banner Scroll Leaves Berry Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Rain had been coming sideways across Cutler's Yard since six, and Dorothy Pask had given up hoping it would stop. She stood under the awning of her jam-doughnut stall with a tray of pink-iced rings going soft at the edges, the sprinkles bleeding little rainbows into the glaze. Her nephew had wanted to sell them with a sign reading Rain Special. She had said no, because nobody wanted a special in the rain. They wanted a dry hand and a hot cup.

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At half past two a boy in a yellow cagoule knocked the trestle with his elbow, and the biggest doughnut, the one she'd iced for the vicar's wife, rolled off the edge of the tray. It bounced once, then took a wobbling line down the cobbles between the fishmonger's crates and the wet shoes of the crowd, and kept going. Dorothy said a word her mother would not have liked and went after it, apron flapping, past the bric-a-brac man, past a puddle the size of a bathtub, past a spaniel that considered the doughnut and then walked away.

It finally stopped against the leg of a folding chair where a man sat reading a paperback about the sea. He looked at the doughnut, then at her, then at the doughnut again. "Yours?" he said. "It was," Dorothy said, out of breath and laughing despite herself. He picked it up, brushed the grit off with his thumb and held it out. "Looks like it's had a better afternoon than either of us."

She took it back and bit into the side that had kissed the cobbles. It tasted of sugar and grit and was perfectly good. Back under the awning, she wrapped it in waxed paper and tucked it into her coat pocket. Some things, she supposed, were meant to travel. The rain kept on, and the doughnut kept her warm all the way to closing.