Colour tattoo of a Star Wars stormtrooper helmet in teal and blue, with purple and dark splashes spreading behind it on skin.

Stormtrooper helmet with paint splashes

Colour · Photo

A stormtrooper helmet in profile fills the centre of the image, with its visor, breathing grille and panel lines shaded in greys and whites. Behind it, loose teal, blue and purple splashes fade outward in a painterly, spattered effect. The colour ink dominates, and the helmet is outlined in dark lines against the skin.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Keeper Mairi Dunning had been fourteen years at the light on Skerry Nell when the sea first brought her a head. It came in on the tide after a gale and lodged in the kelp below the slipway: a white helmet with a black slot for eyes and a ribbed grille across the mouth, like the underside of a shell. Someone had sprayed it with paint, teal and blue and violet, and the salt had cracked the colour, so it looked as if the sea had tried to paint it and given up halfway.

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She carried it up the hundred and twelve steps in a sack and set it on the sill of the watch room, facing the water. Her brother Donald, who came across on the Tuesday boat with flour and paraffin, said it was rubbish and she should burn it. She did not. On the nights the fog lay thick, she swore the visor caught the lamp before the lamp had turned to it, a small cold brightness that said someone out there was looking.

In February a boat came out of the murk with no lights, rowing hard for the reef. Mairi climbed to the lamp and, with the helmet beside her on the sill, did what her grandmother had taught her. She turned the great lens by hand, slow, and flashed the warning count that nobody on the water had heard in thirty years. The boat swung wide, close enough that she heard the oars knock against the rock, and the rowers pulled away into the channel.

In the morning the boat was gone and so was the helmet. The sill held only a ring of blue salt. Donald asked where it had got to, and Mairi said the sea had come back for its colour. Down on the slipway, where the tide had drawn back, the rocks were splashed with teal and violet, drying in the rough shape of an eye.

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