Colour tattoo of the cartoon character Stitch, blue with pink ears and a toothy grin, on the upper back over the shoulder blade.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Stitch character on upper back

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The tattoo shows the blue alien character Stitch peeking through a ripped opening in the skin, with large black eyes, pink inner ears, a wide toothy grin and clawed hands spread around the edges. The linework is bold and dark, with soft shading on the blue body and highlights on the teeth. Blue, pink, red and yellow ink dominate, and the design sits centrally across the upper back near the shoulder blade.

Back Stitch Cartoon character Alien Ear Teeth Claw

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mrs Ailsa Penhale had been mending the same hole in the back of her lodger's coat for a fortnight before she caught the culprit. It was not the moth, nor the cat from number nine. It was a small blue thing with too many elbows, climbing out of the seam at half past two each morning as if the lining were a window and it had only just found the latch.

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She set a trap of cold toast and a saucer of marmalade on the sewing table, then sat up with the lamp turned low. The creature came out in stages: first two ears like pink-lined umbrellas, then a pair of enormous black eyes that took in the room as though it were pricing it, then a grin wider than any face has a right to be. It had three fingers on each hand, every one ending in a hooked nail, and it used them to grip the frayed edge of the cloth and pull itself further through the rip.

"You're letting the draught in," she said.

The creature considered this. It tilted its head, licked a fleck of marmalade off a claw, and said nothing at all, which she felt was more honest than most lodgers.

By Friday she had stopped sewing the holes shut. She cut a little door instead, stitched its edges with red thread, and left a biscuit tin by the window. Whatever was on the other side could come and go as it pleased, provided it brought back the buttons it had taken, and provided it stopped chewing through her good wool. Some mornings the tin was full of threads. Some mornings it held nothing but a note in careful capitals: SORRY. ALSO NOT SORRY.