Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
TARDIS and galaxy on a forearm
Realism · Forearm · Colour · Photo
A blue TARDIS police box sits on the forearm with its door panels, windows and lettering shown in shaded detail. Behind it, soft pink, purple and blue nebula shading fills the background, with small bright speckles suggesting stars. The photo is shown as two angled views against a tiled wall and white bath.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
On Scarrow Head the lamp had been kept by the same family for six generations, and Tomas Ebbern wound its clockwork by hand every four hours. The fog that autumn came in thick as wool, and one night, with the light turned and nothing to see, a blue box stood on the rocks below the gallery where no box had any business being.
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It had two small lamps on its roof and words along its sides that he could not read, though the letters were plain enough. POLICE, said one side. BOX, said the other. Tomas went down with a lantern and a coil of rope, and when he laid his palm on the door it was warm as a loaf. He pushed it open. Inside, the room went on and on, stairs curving up into a dark full of small cold stars, and a woman's voice said, not unkindly, "You're letting the damp in."
Her name was Ysolt, and she had come to borrow the light. Her own had gone out somewhere a very long way off, and the ships that steered by it were drifting. Tomas told her the lamp was his to keep and not to lend. She laughed and said the last keeper had told her the very same thing, a hundred years back, and that he had been wrong too. Then she took the lantern from his hand and walked up the stairs, and the stars went with her.
By morning the fog had lifted and the rocks were bare. But the lamp on Scarrow Head burned blue for the rest of his life, and his grandchildren say that on foggy nights you can still see two small windows glowing pink and violet at the foot of the cliff, and hear a clockwork being wound by someone who has finally learned how.
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