Two side by side neo-traditional tattoo flash sketches of a woman in ornate headdresses, one in green ink with a lemur, one in brown ink with feathers, with no body placement shown.

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Woman with lemur headdress design sketches

Neo-trad · Colour · Flash

Two drawings sit side by side, each showing a woman's face and shoulders framed by ornamental elements. The left sketch in green ink includes a lemur on her head, a ring of arrows above, a feather held in one hand and a curled shell, with soft hatching in the fur. The right sketch in brown ink shows a woman wearing a feathered headdress and beaded necklace, with bold outlines, fine stippling and flowing decorative lines around the figure.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Nell, the lemur has finally found the one thing on this site that frightens the whole fair more than it frightens him, which is the brass hub of the Big Wheel. He climbed it during Tuesday's setting up and sat there like a bishop in a borrowed hat, ringed tail hanging, while Dougie Pike shouted for a ladder nobody wanted to climb. In the end I went up in my good boots and offered him a shell from the bag I keep for him. He turned it over twice, then came down onto my shoulder as though the whole business had been his idea.

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Uncle Harry brought him back from Mahajanga in a crate marked for tinned peaches. Harry told everyone the lemur was a sign of luck, and Mum said luck was just the name we gave to things that kept turning up. I think of that when I hold the feather he likes to chew, the grey one from the pigeons off the pier. He keeps it in the crook of his arm like a letter he hasn't finished reading, and the arrows painted round the stall's board look, from a distance, like he has been pointing at something all season.

Last Thursday he went missing from the wagon after the lamps went out. I found him at half past two on the far side of the common, sitting up in the wet grass with the moon set neatly inside a ring of hawthorn, as if someone had drawn it there with a compass. He did not run when I called. He just looked at me with those great amber eyes and then back at the moon, the way Harry used to look at the sea before he went back to it.

I didn't carry him home. I sat down beside him and we waited for the fog to lift off the Wheel. When it did, I left the shell on the wagon step, where he would find it in the morning, and walked back alone with the feather in my pocket. Come and see him in August. He still asks after you.

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