Traditional style colour tattoo of a sugar skull figure in a sombrero and moustache, holding a green bottle and a blue skateboard, on the lower leg.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Sugar skull figure in sombrero on a calf

Traditional · Calf · Colour · Photo

A bold, cartoon-style figure with a sugar skull face, flower decorations on the cheeks and a large moustache, wearing a brown sombrero and brown trousers. The figure holds a green bottle in one hand and a blue skateboard under the other arm, with yellow and black shoes. Thick black outlines and flat fills in orange, blue, green, yellow and pink dominate the composition, which is shown against pale skin.

Traditional Calf Sugar skull Moustache Skeleton Bottle Flower Figure

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The lift in Carrick House had been broken since Easter, so Mr Orozco took the stairs every evening with his skateboard under one arm and a bottle of lime cordial in his fist, like a man carrying a lantern down a mine. I lived on the eleventh floor and heard him long before he reached our landing: the deck slapping each concrete step, the bottle cap ticking against his ring.

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He had painted his face for the Day of the Dead the year he moved in, and never quite scrubbed it off. Flowers bloomed on his cheeks, his moustache was waxed into two black horns, and the brown sombrero he wore in all weathers made him look like a bandit who had lost his horse. The boys on the car park called him Sombrero and then, when he beat them at ollies over the wheelie bins, Sir. He taught them to kick-turn on the cracked tarmac and laughed louder than any of them when they fell off.

In October the council sent a letter saying Carrick House would be emptied by spring. Nobody on the estate spoke about it at the bins. Mr Orozco stopped coming down the stairs and I found him one evening on the bottom step, the board across his knees, looking at the mural the kids had sprayed on the wall, a grinning skeleton with a blue skateboard. He asked if I had ever ridden anything faster than a bus. I said no. He said that was a shame, and held out the bottle.

We went down the car park together on the Saturday, me wobbling, him shouting instructions in two languages. My wheels picked up orange petals from the marigolds someone had left by the bins. At the bottom I stayed upright for almost three seconds, and when I looked back he was standing at the top of the ramp, sombrero tilted, lifting the green bottle to me like a toast.