Unicorn in a starry circle on a hip
Thigh · Colour · Photo
A stylised unicorn rears within a black circle speckled with small white stars. The horse is shaded in purples, pinks and gold, with a softer orange glow fading along the lower edge of the circle. The tattoo sits on the side of the hip and upper thigh, with a woman's hand resting on the hip above it and a black floral dress in the frame.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Mind the step, and sit down properly, because the 11.40 is late and this one takes a while. My grandfather was signalman at Culver Bridge in the years when the cutting still ran on gaslight and the frost stayed on the rails until noon.
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It came up out of the cutting on the night of the great freeze, rearing against a sky so black the stars looked spilled across it. Its coat was the colour of plums and the inside of a shell, and its mane was striped like the fire in a grate. Every hoof struck the rail and not one spark came off it. Grandfather said he could hear the frost cracking under it, but he never once saw the snow give way.
The guard, Mr Ashdown, swore he saw it too, and swore that wherever it trod the white turned to a ring of gold, like a coin dropped into a bowl of milk. Round the edge of that ring was a band of burnt orange, the colour of a lamp turned down low, and the whole thing hung over the embankment as if the moon had decided to come down and have a look at the railway.
Grandfather took his lamp out to the points. The horse lowered its head and looked at the light, then at the signal box, then back at him, and it seemed to be deciding something. Then it went up into the stars the way a swimmer goes under. The line cleared, and the 11.40 ran on time, which is the only miracle the railway has ever admitted to. The next morning there was one small white star scratched into the frost on the signal box step, and my grandfather never once swept it away.
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