A white crop tank top on a wooden hanger, printed with black and grey tattoo-style designs including a cross, a crown, Roman numerals, Hebrew letters and the word Forgive.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Tattoo-style designs printed on a white crop top

Black and grey · Flash

A white sleeveless crop top hangs on a wooden hanger against a pale wall, with tattoo-style designs printed across the front and side. The designs include a shaded cross at the centre, a small crown, Roman numerals, a vertical Hebrew inscription, a script word reading Forgive and a small bird in outline. The artwork is in black and grey line and shading on a plain white background.

Cross Crown Bird Roman numeral

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The galley clock on the Hesper Vale had stopped at a quarter past four somewhere off Skagen, and nobody had bothered to wind it since. I kept the stores by feel after that, and by the ledger, which I wrote up each Sunday in a hand my mother said looked like a hen had walked across it. Seven tins of peaches were gone from the lazarette. I knew because I had counted them in Antwerp, and the figure in the book ended where my own tally did.

Keep reading

The boy who had carried the crates down was called Tobias Rune, nineteen, from a Grimsby street where the chapel bells rang for funerals more than weddings. He came to the galley door with his cap in both hands and said nothing, which was more honest than most men manage. I did not shout. I gave him a heel of bread and told him the peaches were in the bilge with the carpenter's gloves, because I had hidden them there myself on Tuesday to see who would look. He looked. He turned red to the ears.

Afterwards the mate would have had him logged, and I could have let him be logged. Instead I stood on the wet deck with the gulls screaming over the wake and told the mate the tally was wrong, that I had miscounted, that the boy had not stolen a thing. It was a lie of the small useful kind. The mate scratched the ledger and grunted. Tobias never thanked me, and I was glad of it, because thanks would have made it a debt.

That evening a single gull came down on the rail beside the galley hatch and stayed there while I scraped the pans. I threw it a crust. It took the crust and looked at me sideways, as if it kept a ledger of its own, then flew off towards the coast and left the rail bare, which is the nearest thing to a receipt I have ever been given.