beggar by the Kostelni church, of Kuttenberg
“I watch my own pockets. It is a miserable life, surrounded by thieves who would steal the dirt off your boots if you closed your eyes.”
Things Filthy William had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Prime
I saw Warty Heinz looking at my boots today. He knows they are coming apart but he wants them anyway. If I catch him reaching into my rags, I will break his fingers. He already has my lucky die, I know it in my bones.
Nota scribaeHe paused three times during the dictation to spit upon the church steps.
the third day of Easter week, at None
There are too many refugees from the burnt villages taking up the good spots. A man cannot even find a corner to scratch his neck in peace. Prokop says it is the same by the lower gate. At least Oswald the Skalitz man had the decency to die before Lent and free up some space.
Aye, they are everywhere. And they smell worse than we do.
the feast of St Gregory, at Vespers
Ursel says she will send the bailiff if we do not clear our slates. It is watered-down piss she sells us anyway! Now everyone in the shelters is looking at each other's goods to pawn to save their own skins. Keep your hands off my things.
She threatened me too. I have not a single penny to give her.
Nota scribaeDictated near the market. He kept checking his pockets throughout.
Ash Wednesday, at Terce
Some bastard took my lucky bone die straight from my pocket while I slept. I know I did not drop it. Gummy Leonard lost his carved wooden spoon just yesterday. There is a thief working among us, taking what little we have. I will sleep with my back to the wall from now on.
My good wooden spoon! We are surrounded by vipers, William.
the day after Candlemas, at Compline
Cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass dog. My father Kunz would not even share a crust of stale bread when I saw him at the market. And Ursel is already demanding her coin. A miserable winter.
You are a grown man, William. Find your own crusts.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You are a madman, William. Your boots are full of holes and I do not have your bloody die.
That is exactly what a magpie would say.