It measures just over a metre in length and less than a centimetre thick at its thinnest surviving edge, and most of what it once had to say is now beyond reading. The incised cross-shaft that decorates its surface is still visible, as is the chamfered edge on one side, where the stone was cut at an angle to form a neat border. Between that border and the cross-shaft, two vertical lines of lettering run the length of the slab, but the inscription has faded to the point of illegibility. A broken fragment from the upper right corner has been left in its original position, a small, careful act of preservation for a stone that time has otherwise steadily erased.

The ecclesiastical historian William Carrigan, writing in 1905, recorded what he believed to be the upper half of a floor slab in the north side of the nave, and it may well be the same stone. In his account, the inscription was still partially legible, carried in raised Black Letter characters, the angular Gothic script common to formal monuments around 1600, running in three parallel lines beside the central cross. Carrigan managed to transcribe fragments: "Here liethe Ann Comer" in the first line, a reference to one Philip Comerford in the second, and what he read as the beginning of the word "Shirurgeon", an archaic spelling of surgeon, suggesting Comerford may have practised medicine. The third line offered only the phrase "Of good fame, who died the" before the stone gave out. The connection between what Carrigan saw and what survives today remains uncertain; decades of foot traffic and the ordinary damage of a ruined building have not been kind to the lettering.