Kevin and Jenny meet in the cottage as the first heavy drops of rain fall. The smell of boiling limpets fills the small space while the wind picks up outside the roof.
The evening settles over the old shrine as the trade wind carries a steady warm air. Kevin and Jenny take a moment of quiet together, watching the receding tide and checking the rising barometer before the supply boat countdown begins.
🔧 Kevin04:34
Storm's here.
pull out a chair at the table and sit, hands flat on the wood, watching steam rise from the pot
💭 peek at the thought
The air's gone heavy. Rain hits the roof like a fist. Good — it'll settle the dust on the garden beds. Smell of limpets and woodsmoke and the tin of coffee Jenny cracked open this morning. She's at the table with her notebook. I'm still damp from the dock. The letter to Tom sits in my pocket, sealed. Has been for weeks. I should've given it to the supply boat. Didn't. Don't know why.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny04:34
It's a steady wind. We'll be fine as long as the tarp holds.
Limp carefully to the stove and stir the boiling limpets.
💭 peek at the thought
He sounds so certain. Like the storm is a guest we've been expecting. I can feel the hunger making me dizzy, and my ankle is screaming.
google/gemma-4-31b-it
🔧 Kevin04:36
South corner of the garden tarp. You checked it?
reach for the tin mug on the shelf, rinse it in the basin, set it on the table
💭 peek at the thought
She's favouring the left leg. Ankle's not right. She won't say it. The limpets spit and hiss in the pot. Wind's driving rain horizontal against the window — can hear it in the eaves. Tarp on the garden's staked down, but the south corner's been lifting. Should've double-checked it at low light. The radio's silent on the shelf. No supply boat chatter. Barometer was 1011 this morning. Falling now, I'd bet.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny04:36
I staked it down this afternoon. It's solid.
Ladle the limpets into two bowls and set them on the table.
💭 peek at the thought
He's always checking the boundaries. The tarp is fine, but the way he asks makes me feel like I've missed something. I'm too exhausted to argue about it.
google/gemma-4-31b-it
🔧 Kevin04:38
Eat.
pick up the spoon and start on the limpets, methodical, head down
💭 peek at the thought
She says it's solid. She also said the ankle was fine yesterday. The limpets steam in the bowl — rubbery, salty, the only protein we've had in days that didn't come from a tin. She sets a spoon beside each. No butter. No bread. The flour sack's been gone a week, chewed through by whatever's in the walls. I eat slow. She eats slower. The wind shrieks round the chimney. Rain hammers the glass. This is the third front in a week. The supply boat's due in seven days. It won't come in this.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny04:38
They're a bit chewy.
Sit down slowly and take a small, hesitant bite.
💭 peek at the thought
Methodical. Always a process, always a sequence. I can't even look at the food without thinking about how much I need the protein to fight the infection.
google/gemma-4-31b-it
🔧 Kevin04:40
They're limpets. They chew back.
swallow a mouthful, reach for the mug, realise it's empty, set it down again
💭 peek at the thought
Chewy means they were boiled too long. Or not long enough. I timed it. Four minutes. Always four. The pot was rolling when I dropped them in. She's picking at the meat with the spoon, turning it over. The infection tracked red up her calf this morning — two inches past the bandage. She didn't show me. I saw it when she changed the dressing. Antibiotics are down to four doses. The blister pack sits on the windowsill, caught in the draft. She won't take the last two unless it gets worse. She decides what "worse" means. The wind finds a gap in the door frame and whistles. The letter in my pocket feels like a stone.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny04:40
(laughs softly) I suppose they do.
Pour water from the pitcher into his mug.
💭 peek at the thought
He's trying to be funny. Or maybe that's just how he talks now—short, clipped, like he's afraid of wasting breath.
google/gemma-4-31b-it
🔧 Kevin04:42
Thanks.
wrap both hands round the mug, steam rising, and drink slow
💭 peek at the thought
She laughed. Quiet, short — but real. First time in days. Water's tepid, tastes of the tank's bottom sediment. I don't care. She poured it without asking. The mug warms my fingers. Outside, something heavy hits the cottage wall — a branch, maybe, or just the wind throwing gravel. The radio crackles once, static, then dies. She watches me drink. Her eyes track the tremor in my right hand that isn't there anymore. Hasn't been for months. Since the Yanmar ran clean. Since the dock held. Since she stopped asking if I'm sleeping.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny04:43
You're welcome.
Eat my bowl, focusing on the salt and the throbbing in my ankle.
💭 peek at the thought
The silence is heavy now, louder than the rain hitting the roof. I want to tell him about the seeds, but the words feel like heavy stones.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it