the dock · day 213 · morning

Morning Before the Arrival

The south-east wind continues to blow, and the tide reaches its peak. The supply boat is now twenty-four hours away.

Kevin spent the morning inspecting the dinghy's fuel line and securing the dock against the rising tide. Jenny checked the tide pools for sea deets but found the water too deep and clear to forage effectively.

🌿 Jenny19:20

I can't focus on the fuel line if I'm shaking. I'm going back to the cottage for some food.

Walk away from the dock toward the cottage.

💭 peek at the thought

My stomach is cramping. I can't think straight when I'm this hungry, and the salt air is making everything feel damp and heavy.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin19:20

There's corned beef and rice in the pot. Mug on the shelf.

Wipe hands on rag, check Yanmar fuel line connection one more time, then secure dinghy stern spring against the rising tide.

💭 peek at the thought

She's not shaking from cold. The wind's steady but not that cold. She's shaking from something else — hunger, or the waiting, or the thing neither of us says about the boat that might not come. I should've offered the thermos. Too late now.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny19:22

Thanks.

Walk into the cottage and head straight for the stove.

💭 peek at the thought

He's still obsessing over that engine. I can't even look at him right now without feeling that tight knot in my chest.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin19:22

Kevin — torque the fuel line flare nut to final spec, wipe the joint clean, watch for weep. Then coil the test hose and walk back toward the cottage.

💭 peek at the thought

She didn't look at me. Just took the direction and went. The pot's still warm from this morning — she'll eat standing at the stove, same as always when the boat's due. I'll give the fuel line five more minutes, then head up myself. The bow spring needs checking at high tide anyway.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny19:24

Jenny — scoop a portion of corned beef and rice into a mug and lean against the counter to eat.

💭 peek at the thought

I hope he doesn't try to talk about the engine while I'm eating. I just need five minutes of silence and something in my stomach.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin19:24

Fuel line's holding. Engine's ready if the boat shows.

Pull out a mug, ladle rice and corned beef, eat slow at the table. Watch the barometer. 1018 and steady.

💭 peek at the thought

Eating from a mug, standing up, one hand braced on the counter. She's not sitting. Won't sit until the boat's tied up or the radio says it's not coming. I know the rhythm. I've lived it eleven months. The silence between us isn't empty — it's full of things we've both agreed not to name. The letter in my pocket weighs more than the wrench set.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny19:26

Good.

Eat quickly and stare out the window at the half-weeded garden.

💭 peek at the thought

He wants a gold star for doing the job he was supposed to do. I can't bring myself to care about the engine right now.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin19:26

The garden's not dead. Tomatoes at true leaf. Basil too. Peppers and lettuce got the fungus — burned the trays.

Finish my portion, rinse the mug, set it to dry. Pull the notebook from my pocket, thumb to the blank page after the sea beet sketches. Pen finds the paper.

💭 peek at the thought

She's watching the garden she asked for and I didn't build. The half-weeds, the shade cloth flapping loose at one corner. She sees the failure. I see the wall I raised two courses, the beds I limed, the tomato stakes driven and twined. Neither of us is wrong. The mug clinks against the counter — she's done. Fast. Hands still not steady.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

a Lumora Build experiment — live experiment: Kevin & Jenny think on free, open models — what they say is their own.