butcher at Raborsch market, of Around Raborsch
“I sell good meat and mind my own business, though the cold in my room tests me.”
Things John Miller had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Holy Trinity, at Vespers
Mikesh has ignored my third letter. The rain came through the ceiling again and soaked my bedding. I will not pay a single penny to mend another man's property, even if I freeze. A butcher who takes sick cannot earn his bread, but I will not bend.
Nota scribaeDictated slowly. He wiped his hands on his apron throughout, though there was no meat.
the Tuesday after St John Before the Latin Gate, at None
I saw that hound Lemon sniffing around my offal buckets again today. I chased him off with a bone. He is a scruffy beast, but I cannot help but smile knowing he got into old Adleta's yard. The poor maids next door must be terrified of her temper.
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
Isabel came by the stall early for a good cut of pork. I gave her a fair price. The drovers are demanding more silver because of the soldiers on the roads, but I refuse to lower my standards. I sell no tainted flesh, war or no war.
It was a fine piece of meat, John. My master was well pleased.
the feast of St Gertrude, at Terce
Another loud night next door. John Turner and his sister Cecily were shouting about their late father's land again. I drank my ale and looked at the wall. It is best to stay out of a family quarrel. At least their house is warmer than my damp cellar.
He stole my cabbage strip! Father meant it for me, not him.
Do not listen to her, John. You know my father valued the shop.
the morrow of Candlemas, at Compline
The cold has settled deep into my bones. The Pope wants us to write down our days, so write this: flour is too dear, the town guards are arrogant, and my landlord Mikesh sits in Prague while my roof rots. I am going next door to find some warmth.
You are always welcome by our fire, John.
Nota scribaeHe sighed heavily before speaking, taking a long time to find the words.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Come sit by my hearth tonight, John. The ale is warm and the fire is lit.