It's the 4th day of the Month of Rain. Morris is sick and so are the children. I've avoided it thus far, which is good fortune, since it has fallen on me to care for them.
The city watch comes and goes, knocking on doors and asking for signs of plague. Even our neighbors cannot be trusted. Earlier, it was difficult to keep the children quiet. Now they sleep most of the time.
The flies have set in. I try to keep them away, but I can barely get close, they sting so. Most of the time, Morris won't answer me when I try to talk to him from across the room.
Morris is gone now. I don't know what I'll do. For now all my hope is reserved for the children. Leaving the flat for a while near dawn, I found some plague bags from a guard booth while no one was around. It took a while, but I got Morris into one of the bags. At least his face is covered.
Young Robert has passed. The star of my sky is gone.
Elise stopped breathing in the middle of the night. She was such a head-strong girl, I can hardly believe she was overcome. She was always near as I cut up hagfish or vegetables, arguing with me about everything.
It is the 4th day of the Month of Wind. It has settled in that they are lost to me, all of them. I cannot bring myself to call the Dead Counter.
I have the fever now. No guards come near anymore.