Man's chest with a geometric tattoo of a dark faceted shape in dotwork shading, joined by fine lines to small teal and green triangles and dots.

Geometric chest tattoo with lines and triangles

Geometric · Chest · Mixed · Photo

A shirtless man shows a large geometric tattoo across his chest, centred on a dark faceted shape built from solid black areas and fine stippled or hatched lines. Thin black lines radiate outward from the shape to small black dots, and several small triangles in teal, green and blue sit above it near the collarbone. Black ink dominates, with the triangles adding muted colour against the skin.

Geometric Dotwork Chest Geometric shape Triangle Line Dot Cube Abstract

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mrs Abernethy had pegged the string at dawn, the way her husband used to, and by the time Tom came through the side gate the lines ran across the lawn like the spokes of a broken umbrella. Each peg wore a scrap of cloth dyed the colour of a different bird's egg. Tom counted them while the dew soaked through his boots. Eleven pegs. Eleven lines. The twelfth had been lost to the badger last spring, she said, and she had decided it was not worth replacing.

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She had drawn the bed on the back of a seed catalogue, a solid block of dark yew cut into facets, its edges rolled into fine ruled stripes so that from the kitchen window it looked like a stone that had been folded and folded again. 'Your grandfather planted the first slab of it in 1961,' she said, 'and he never once let anything grow on the top.' Tom had come to clip it back, not to ask why. He knelt and sighted along the nearest string toward the church spire, the way she had shown him, and the line lay straight as a rule.

By noon the work was done and the triangles were the only part of the garden that refused to settle. Three of them she had cut from green roof slate and set at the ends of the lines, and a fourth from cobalt glass that caught the sun and threw a small blue coin onto the wall. They were meant to point toward the house. Instead, as the afternoon wore on, each one turned a little, following the light, until Tom saw that they had all agreed on the same direction without anyone telling them.

Mrs Abernethy watched from the step with her tea going cold. 'There,' she said. 'Now you know where the path goes.' He did not ask which path she meant.