Flash sheet of seven hand-drawn arrows with patterned feather fletchings in teal, pink, red and yellow, shown in black linework on a white background.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Seven decorative arrows flash sheet

Mixed · Flash

The sheet shows seven arrows stacked in rows, each with a different fletching: patterned feathers, a solid teal fletching with scalloped bands, pink feathers, and a small pink braided shape. Shaft lines are thin black strokes ending in simple arrowheads. The feathers are filled with dotted, zigzag and striped patterns in teal, pink, red, yellow and green, with the outlines in black ink.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Marguerite, the fletcher in Shoreditch finally answered my knock at half past eleven, and I am writing this at his counter with a cup of tea going cold beside the ledger. He keeps seven arrows pinned on a board behind him, each one a different sort of feather, some painted in stripes like a jumper my nan knitted, some in dots as small as a sneeze of pepper. I asked him which one a person would carry across a city at night if she meant to come back. He laughed and said none of them, they were all for shooting at things, but he gave me the pink braid anyway and wouldn't take the coins.

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The streets were wet when I left and the buses had stopped running, so I walked past the lit windows of the bakeries where the men were already rolling dough, past the canal where a swan sat like a question nobody wanted to answer. Every shaft I passed on the wall of a shuttered shop seemed to point me somewhere useful, which is the trouble with arrows, they are never pointing at where you are standing.

At the bridge I stopped and took the teal one from my coat, the solid one with its scalloped bands, and I thought of you saying I would never settle anywhere long enough to have a fletching of my own. You were right, and you were kind to say it with your mouth full of toast. So I am sending you the braid instead, pinned inside this envelope, pink and small enough to lose. Keep it somewhere the wind can't reach. I will be home by Sunday, and if the arrow hits anything, it will be the door.

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