A grid of fifteen solid black cross silhouettes on a white background, with ornate, pointed and flared arm shapes, shown as flash designs with no body placement.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Fifteen decorative cross designs

Black and grey · Flash

The image shows fifteen solid black cross shapes arranged in three rows of five on a plain white background. The crosses vary in their arm ends, with some having diamond, spear-point, fleur-like, trefoil and flared terminals, and some with inner cut-out details. They are flat fills with no shading, and the composition is evenly spaced, like a sheet of design options.

Cross Crosses Silhouette

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The sheet had come in the post with a coffee ring across the third row, and Ruth kept propping it against the flour tin, meaning to decide. Frost had split the old headstone in the churchyard the week before Christmas, and the mason in town had sent fifteen crosses in black ink, numbered, as if their father could be chosen from a shop shelf. Dan stood at the range with his boots still steaming and tapped the spear-point cross in the middle row. "That one would look like a bayonet," Ruth said. "Dad wouldn't have stood for that."

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She went out to the byre before light, the lamp swinging from her hand and the yard gone blue under snow. Inside the gatepost, cut with a penknife over forty years, were the notches he had made for each calf that lived through its first winter. He had never once been sentimental in front of her, but he had kept those marks as carefully as the accounts. The heifers shifted in their straw and blew white breath at her while she counted them, then counted the notches again, and got the same number both times.

Back in the kitchen she pulled the sheet toward her and studied the flared ends, the diamonds, the fleur-like tips that were too fussy for a field. The one at the top left had a small open diamond cut into its centre, so the stone behind it would show through. Her father used to say a good gate let the wind pass and kept the beasts in, and that was all a man needed from a fence.

Ruth circled number three, the plain one with the hollow heart, and set the pencil down beside it. Outside, the snow slid off the byre roof in one soft piece, and somewhere under the hedge a robin started up as though the morning had been arranged for it.