Colour tattoo of the cartoon character Stitch in blue with a pink tongue, on the side of a person's ribs.

Stitch cartoon tattoo on the ribs

Ribs · Colour · Photo

A cartoon-style tattoo of the character Stitch, shown in blue with a pink tongue and large dark eyes, sits on the side of the ribs. The linework is bold and outlined, with soft blended shading across the blue body and highlights on the eye. The photograph is taken close up, with the rest of the torso, a light top and dark waistband visible around the design.

Ribs Stitch Cartoon character Alien

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The keeper's wife had already put the kettle on when Owen Pryce hauled the sack up the rocks, and she took one look at it before saying it could not stay in the scullery. The sack was wet and it kicked. Inside, something blue and no bigger than a loaf was chewing the drawstring with great concentration, one enormous dark eye fixed on him as though he were the odd one.

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It had come in on the spring tide with a crate of tinned peaches and a lamp that no longer lit. The coastguard wanted it logged. The mainland wanted it collected. Owen wanted only to get back to the lamp, which needed trimming, but the creature had other ideas. It climbed the stair ahead of him, sniffed the brass, and by morning had unscrewed the lid of the paraffin tin and wedged its pink tongue into the wick as if tasting the works.

Owen spent three days trying to be stern. He read it the tide tables. It listened, head tilted, then bit the page. He tried the names of the keepers from a hundred years back, and it wept, then hiccupped, then laughed like a rusted gate. On the fourth night the fog came in thick, the beam stuck halfway round, and Owen was on the stair with a spanner, cursing, when the small thing shot past him, scrambled up the ladder to the lantern room and pressed both palms flat against the glass.

The light swung out over the water, steady as a heartbeat. A fishing boat that had been drifting toward the Skerries turned for home. In the morning the sack lay empty, the lamp was bright, and on the salt-streaked glass of the lantern room there was one small blue handprint, too round at the fingers to be anybody's but its own.