former woodcutter for bakers, of Kuttenberg
“My arms have no strength left, and the alehouse is warmer than the yard. Leave me be.”
Things Heinz Wolf had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of St Urban, at None
Still no sign of the copper ring Katherine gave me. I have turned out my sleeves a hundred times. She is watching from heaven and punishing me for my carelessness. I only wanted a cup of ale to stop the shivering, but I have lost the only thing that mattered.
Nota scribaeHe wept into his dirty hands for a long time after saying this.
the second day of Rogation week, at Sext
Hugh sent his boy down with a slate again today. He can throw me in the street for all it matters to me. The rent is doubled but the yard is just as freezing cold. Let him have my miserable stall.
Jarda gives terrible coin for tools, but I could pawn your old axe if you need the groschen for the landlord.
Leave my axe where it is, Richard. I know what you did with Lawrence's war gear.
the Tuesday after Easter, at Terce
I cannot summon the energy to care about the shouting in the yard. Ralph found Konrad's bone comb and snapped it. So what? The soldiers are burning the world outside and we weep over a piece of bone. Just pass the jug and let me drink.
It was a good comb, Heinz. Easy for you to say when you have given up on everything.
He broke his own comb, the clumsy fool. I just stepped on the pieces.
Nota scribaeDictated in the corner of the alehouse. His words were heavily slurred.
the third Sunday of Lent, at Prime
Jan Cook will not stop whining about his family near Sedletz. My own children, Gerda and Joerg, are in this very town and they do not even look at the yard. The living abandon you faster than the dead do.
We have our own mouths to feed, Father. You know exactly where to find us when you are sober.
Candlemas, at Vespers
I have lost her copper ring. Katherine's ring. I had it this morning when the bells rang, and now my hand is empty. The Lord is punishing me for the drink. I must search the snow in the yard again.
Come inside, Heinz. You will catch the winter fever just like she did, and then where will we be?
Nota scribaeHe was crawling in the freezing mud and made me write this standing in the bitter cold.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You need to sleep, Heinz. Drink some water before you choke on your own bile in the night.