Black line-art tattoo of Winnie the Pooh and his friends inside a heart-shaped scroll frame on the outer thigh.

Winnie the Pooh characters in a heart on a thigh

Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows Winnie the Pooh, Piglet, Tigger, Eeyore, Rabbit and Owl, with Kanga and Roo also appearing, arranged in a cluster inside a heart-shaped border of scrollwork and leaves. It is drawn in uniform black outline with no shading or fill, and the lines are fairly even in weight. The design is shown in a close, straight-on photo on the outer thigh, with only the outline work visible and no colour.

Thigh Winnie the pooh Owl Rabbit Scrollwork Leaves

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The Saturday club arrived at Harrowden Keep with a fortnight of rain in their wellies and a box of wax crayons nobody had counted. I was the steward, which meant I held the gate key and the first aid kit and answered for anything that fell off a wall. Sam, a small boy with a cold, had been drawing on the back of a leaflet since we unlocked the gatehouse, and when I looked over his shoulder he had made a heart out of ivy and filled it with animals.

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Not animals, he said, patiently. Pooh, and Piglet, and the one who bounces, and a donkey who is sad about his tail. He had got them all from a library book that smelled of toast. He wanted them up on the wall above the old gate, where the coat of arms used to be, because the castle had nothing cheerful left in it. I told him the sandstone had been flaking since the Civil War and he should use a pencil, and he looked at me as though I had said the moon was made of cheese.

That evening, after the children had gone home with their rubbings, I went back up with a torch. He had pressed the outline into the wet clay of a fallen cornice with a lolly stick. Every line was the same weight, from the bear's ear to the donkey's hoof. Rain had got into the grooves and stood there, black and tidy, so the whole cluster looked like ink on a page nobody would ever turn.

I did not tell the trust. I left it for the frost, which would have it in a season, and I locked the gate behind me, counting the bolts out loud the way I always do. In the morning the heart was still on the cornice, the rain gone, the animals holding on to each other as if the wall had only asked them to stay put.