Close photograph of a teal and blue shaded tattoo of a twenty-sided dice on skin, with a triangular face at its centre.

Teal twenty-sided dice tattoo

Colour · Photo

The tattoo shows a twenty-sided dice, drawn as a large hexagonal outline with a triangular face at the centre and smaller facets around it. The linework is bold and the faces are shaded with teal, blue and black, with lighter skin tones showing through in places. The composition fills the frame, with the dice centred on a soft, slightly out-of-focus background of skin.

Dice Triangle Hexagon

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mind the drips off that awning, and shuffle in, for my voice won't carry through this drizzle unless you lean. You want the tale of Mother Haskett's die? Then hear it. She kept a cloth stall at Carrow Lane market, the one under the blue tarpaulin that sagged on the left, and every Thursday she laid out her wares on oilcloth with one thing she would never sell.

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It was a twenty-sided die, teal as the sea off Cornwall in March, its faces cut so sharp a careless thumb would bleed. Inside the great hexagon a triangle sat at its heart like a pane of still water. A lad called Tobias Pell came one wet morning with coppers two shillings short for his sister's wedding cloth. Mother Haskett did not want his money. She pushed the die across the oilcloth and said, roll it. If it shows twenty, the cloth is yours, and the rain will stop over your head for the rest of the day.

He rolled. The die rattled through the gutter-water and came to rest with the twenty uppermost, and the rain stopped as if someone had shut a door. Tobias walked to the wedding in dry boots. Forty years on he came back to Carrow Lane with his grandchildren, and the sky stayed grey over every stall but his. That is the bargain, you see. The die gives you twenty, and then it asks what you will roll for next.

Mother Haskett's stall is gone now. But I have the die, and it is wet, as it always is. Sit a moment. Put your palm flat on the table and mind the sharp corner. Roll it, and tell me what the sky does before you decide what you would give for it.