mason at the wall works, of Kuttenberg
“I cut stone for the town wall. Better to break rock than sit in a damp house with strangers.”
Things John Clark had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Vespers
Still no sign of the carving. I know someone threw it out when they moved the chests. You can scrub my mother from the house, but you cannot make me call you by her name. I will tear the floorboards up tomorrow.
Nota scribaeThe mason pounded the table so hard my inkhorn spilled.
the second day of Easter week, at None
The rain is good for my father's dirt, but it turns the mortar to slop at the wall works. We sat under the scaffold drinking the guild's thin beer all morning. At least out here the only thing leaking is the sky, not Peshek's cursed roof.
And my breeches are soaked through.
the eve of Palm Sunday, at Compline
My wooden Saint Barbara is gone. It was my mother's. We moved the chests because the thatch gave way, and now it is nowhere. If I find out it was swept into the hearth on purpose, there will be hell to pay.
I lost my copper ring in the same mess. We were only trying to keep the linens dry, John.
the feast of Saint Gregory, at Sext
Peshek's steward came for the rent. My father handed over the groschen without one word about the gaping hole in the thatch. A man should stand up for his own house. Thank Christ stone does not rot.
Peshek is a rich man in Prague. You do not argue with a rich man's steward over a bit of damp.
If you are so brave, why did you run off to the quarry instead of talking to the steward yourself?
Nota scribaeHe rubbed his fingers together the whole time he spoke, shedding dust on my parchment.
Candlemas, at Prime
The frost is so hard the stones bite my hands. They say the King's brother has more men on the roads, but I only care that the master builder owes us a penny extra for working in the freeze. The house is freezing too.
The fire is lit now, if you would ever come home to sit by it.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Nobody touched your little piece of wood. The roof poured water on the flour, I was saving our winter bread.
Keep your voice down, boy. We have enough trouble without shouting it to the street.