Colour tattoo of a red and yellow sun, black line mountains and teal pine trees across a man's side above his waistband.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Sun, mountains and pine trees on the side

Other · Colour · Photo

A bare midriff shows a landscape tattoo of a red and orange sun with a yellow centre, a black linework mountain range and two tall pine trees. Soft teal and blue washes sit beneath the trees and the sun, with drips running down from the sun's edge. The tattoo sits to the side of the stomach, just above a belt, and the photo is taken at close range in a shop setting.

Other Sun Mountain Pine tree Landscape

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody at the reunion remembered that Mr Ashdown kept a jar of cloudy water on the windowsill, but I did. Thirty years on, the Sixth Form hall smelled of crisp packets and floor polish, and I found myself in front of a display board where someone had pinned our old Art A-level folders. Mine was third from the left. The sun in my painting still bled down the paper where I had loaded the brush too wet and then been too proud to start again.

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Dani Okafor found me there holding two plastic cups of warm prosecco. She had been the one who could draw a mountain in four strokes, black ink, no pencil first. "You never finished the lower ridge," she said. "Ashdown said it looked like a bad fence." We laughed the way people do when a joke has been waiting a long time to be told. She pointed at my sun and said the drips were the only honest part of it, because the rest of us had spent our lives trying to make things stay put.

Ashdown arrived late, leaning on a stick, and walked straight to the board without greeting anyone. He tapped the glass over my painting. "Still wet," he said, and I could not tell whether he meant the paint or the afternoon. Then he asked if I still had the teal wash I had mixed from two tubes nobody else would touch.

I said I did, though I had not. I drove home that night with the folder on the passenger seat, and at the first lay-by I opened it under the dome light. The paper had cockled and the colours had run into one another, the red sun sinking into the blue trees exactly as it had in the classroom. I left it open on the seat until morning, so the drips could dry the way they wanted to.