Colour tattoo of three butterflies with black outlines, one pink, one teal and one pink, trailing small dots on the side of a torso.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Three butterflies with stardust on the ribs

Ribs · Colour · Photo

Three butterflies fly down a diagonal line across the side of the torso, with the upper and lower pair in pink and orange tones and the middle one in teal and blue. Each wing has bold black outlines and shading that gives a glossy, layered look, and small black dots and star shapes trail between them. The skin is smooth and evenly lit against a plain background, with a denim waistband and a purple fabric edge at the top and bottom of the frame.

Ribs Butterfly Star Dot Sparkle

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Win, the new lodger in number four has paid a month in advance in coins from a tin, and Mrs Pargeter swears she saw him counting them under the lamp as if they might bite. I told her to hush. Half of Gullhaven comes to us with something to hide, and the other half has only come for the sea air and a cheap bed. My job is to keep the sheets dry, the gas meter fed and my nose out of other people's business.

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He painted the back bedroom ceiling himself last Tuesday, a sky the colour of old pennies with three butterflies drawn across it on wires of gold leaf. I told him the damp would have them by Christmas. He said butterflies learn to live in weather. Then he went out with his box of brushes and came back smelling of linseed and the fish market, and sat on the back step with his sleeves rolled up while the gulls fought over the bins.

On Friday the wind dropped and the tide came in so quiet you could hear the bell buoy from the kitchen. I climbed the stepladder to see what he had done, and the three of them had moved. The teal one had drifted down over the cornice, leaving a trail of silver specks like someone had shaken out a sugar bag. I said nothing. I left the cocoa on the landing and went back to bed, and in the morning there was a fresh coat of cream where the stars had been, and a note under the door in neat capitals: THEY ARE ONLY GOING SOUTH.

Write back soon. Tell me whether Mother has finally stopped asking after the bread knife.