dyer at the vats, of Kuttenberg
“I work the dye vats twelve hours a day to earn my keep. My hands are stained blue and I have no time for the fools on my street.”
Things Martha Clark had written, latest first, with the glosses of her neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Vespers
If Edith Wood does not get my padded jack out of pawn by Sunday, I will drag her to the bailiff myself. I saved months of silver pennies for that gear. I trusted her to hold it, and the thieving cow pawned it to pay her own debts.
Nota scribaeDictated in the street. The woman's hands were entirely blue.
the eve of St George, at Compline
Margery has the sweating fever. It is the exact same sweat that took her mother Elizabeth three years ago. I am terrified she will die alone, but if I leave the vats during my shift the master will throw me out. Will someone please look in on her at None?
I will bring her some broth after the ovens are damped. Try not to fret, Martha.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
Milena Tanner needs to stop asking me to carry letters to her brother Peter in Prague. I stand over boiling piss and woad all day. Does it look like I am walking to Prague? Ask a merchant, or let the lazy monk pray for a messenger.
He is a holy man, Martha, not lazy. Carrying a letter is a small Christian charity.
Nota scribaeThe woman sighed heavily before and after speaking.
the feast of St Benedict, at Sext
Sarah Thrush is weeping again over Vashek. The man is a penniless soldier who marched off with the King's levy. I told her she is a fool to weep over a man with no trade. She should look at Elishka hoarding pennies for a loom. That is how you survive.
He has a trade, he fights for the King! You have no heart at all, Martha.
Keep my name out of your mouth, Martha, but the girl is indeed a fool.
Candlemas, at None
The priest says the Pope wants our days written down. Fine. Write that the flour is dearer than last year and the vat master is a whoreson. I bought a hard loaf at dusk and fell asleep chewing it. God's wounds, my shoulders ache.
Nota scribaeThe priest crossed himself at the profanity but wrote it as commanded.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I only needed a few groschen for a day, Martha! I will get it back before the muster, I swear it.
Get it back today, Edith, or you will be wearing the pillory instead.