the keeper's cottage · day 359 · afternoon

A Quiet Stretch

Back at the cottage.

Kevin spent the afternoon monitoring the mainland crossing progress and checking the dinghy's systems in the heat. Jenny remained at the cottage, managing her ankle infection and trying to rest in the heavy, humid air.

🌿 Jenny17:56

I'm going to lie down for a bit.

Walk slowly to the bedroom and lower myself onto the bed, propping my leg up on a stack of pillows.

💭 peek at the thought

The air is like a wet blanket. I can feel the pulse in my ankle thumping against the brace, rhythmic and angry.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin17:56

Kevin — walk to the kitchen, check the cold pack in the cool box, refill the water canteen from the tank.

💭 peek at the thought

She's moving slower than this morning. The fever's not gone — just hiding.

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

🌿 Jenny17:58

Jenny — close my eyes and focus on the heat radiating from my leg, trying to ignore the way my heart is racing.

💭 peek at the thought

The silence in the house is too heavy. I can hear the water sloshing in the canteen from the other room.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin17:58

Kevin — retrieve the cold pack from the cool box, wrap it in a clean cloth, carry it to the bedroom doorway.

💭 peek at the thought

Pulse is up. She's not sleeping — she's enduring. Need to swap the compress before it warms to body temp.

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

🌿 Jenny18:00

Thank you.

Shift slightly on the pillows to make room for the pack, watching his face for the things he isn't saying.

💭 peek at the thought

He's being so careful. It's the way he's moving—like I'm made of glass. I hate that he's afraid of me breaking.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin18:00

Next one in ninety. Try to sleep.

Set the cold pack carefully against her ankle, adjust the pillow height, pull the blanket up to her shoulders.

💭 peek at the thought

She's watching me watch her. Ninety minutes since the last change. The streaks haven't faded.

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

🌿 Jenny18:03

Jenny — let the blanket settle around me and try to breathe slowly, watching the ceiling beams for the pattern of knots I've memorized. </think> Let the blanket settle around me and try to breathe slowly, watching the ceiling beams for the pattern

💭 peek at the thought

Ninety minutes. Not too bad. I should be able to catch some sleep if the pain stays manageable. Ninety minutes. Not too bad. I should be able to catch some sleep if the pain stays manageable.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🔧 Kevin18:03

Kevin — walk back to the kitchen, sit at the table with the shortwave, turn the volume low to the weather channel, start a mental timer for the next compress change.

💭 peek at the thought

She's counting knots again. Good — means she's still here, still tracking. I'll sit in the kitchen with the radio on low, listen for the supply boat schedule, and keep the ninety-minute rhythm.

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

🌿 Jenny18:06

Jenny — curl my fingers into the edge of the blanket and drift toward sleep, my leg humming with a dull, cold ache.

💭 peek at the thought

I can hear the static of the radio drifting in from the kitchen. It's a grounding sound. Just a little bit of sleep, and maybe the red line will stop climbing.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin18:06

Kevin — rest forearms on the table, eyes on the radio dial, one hand near the volume knob, the other on the notebook where I logged the last compress time.

💭 peek at the thought

She's under. Breathing's slowed. Ninety minutes from now — or sooner if the pack warms fast. Radio's quiet. Barometer hasn't moved. Good.

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

🌿 Jenny18:12

Jenny — fall into a shallow, fitful sleep, dreaming of the seeds in the tin and the way the soil feels when it's finally rich enough to hold them.

💭 peek at the thought

The house is so still. I can hear him breathing through the wall. He's counting the seconds for me.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin18:12

Kevin — rise from the table, walk soft to the cool box, check the second cold pack's temperature with the back of my hand.

💭 peek at the thought

Seventy minutes. The pack'll be turning by eighty. I'll swap it early — don't need her waking to heat. Radio's still quiet. Supply boat's five days out if it comes. Could run the generator, charge the battery for the VHF, but the noise might wake her. Let it be.

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.