the keeper's cottage · day 413 · dawn

The Rising Pressure

Rain drums steadily against the roof as the barometer continues its slow descent toward 970 hPa. Jenny sits at the table, leg propped while Kevin checks the red ink lines on her ankle for any new spread.

Steady rain continues at dawn, filling the water tank to its capacity. Jenny monitors her leg infection while the pressure continues to drop, and Kevin prepares the cottage for the supply boat's arrival.

🔧 Kevin21:29

Red line hasn't moved since 0400. That's good.

Set the torch down on the table, pick up the clean gauze and antibiotic cream, start unwrapping the dressing on her ankle.

💭 peek at the thought

The barometer's still dropping. 970 by nightfall if this holds. Need to get the dinghy warp doubled and the storm anchor checked before the tide turns.

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

🌿 Jenny21:29

I can feel it. It's not pulsing as hard as it was last night.

Lean back in the chair and watch his hands, then reach for the tin of mackerel.

💭 peek at the thought

He's treating me like a piece of equipment again. A machine that needs its tolerances checked.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin21:31

Eat. Need the protein.

Finish cleaning the wound, apply fresh cream, rewrap with gauze — firm but not tight — then mark the new red-line boundary with the ballpoint pen.

💭 peek at the thought

She's reaching for the mackerel. Appetite's returning. That's something.

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

🌿 Jenny21:31

I'm eating, Kevin. I'm eating.

Pop the lid of the mackerel tin with a sharp metallic snap and slide a piece of fish into my mouth.

💭 peek at the thought

He doesn't even look at my face, just the ink on my skin. I'm just a map of an infection to him.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin21:33

(chews, swallows) Thanks.

Toss the used gauze into the burn bucket, wash hands in the basin, then pull the notebook over to log the 0800 dressing change — time, red-line status, no fever, appetite present.

💭 peek at the thought

Stubborn. Always has to have the last word, even with a tin of mackerel.

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

🌿 Jenny21:33

Don't forget to note that the barometer is dropping again. We're heading for 970.

Reach over and pull the notebook slightly toward me to see the entry.

💭 peek at the thought

I hate that notebook. It's not a journal, it's a chart for a dying plant.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin21:35

Logged it at 0600. 975 steady. Now 975 falling. Two hours.

Write the barometer reading beside the dressing entry, then slide the notebook back to center of table.

💭 peek at the thought

She's watching the numbers same as me. Doesn't miss much.

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

🌿 Jenny21:35

The rain is getting heavier. The tank will be overflowing by noon.

Finish the mackerel and push the empty tin aside.

💭 peek at the thought

He's so precise it's clinical. He doesn't just record the weather; he records the interval of the decay.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin21:36

Overflow hose still pinned to the tomato row?

Stand, stretch the stiffness from the dock work, walk to the porch door and crack it to check the sky and the garden tarp.

💭 peek at the thought

Tank's already at 400. Overflow by noon means we're wasting catchment. Could rig the overflow hose to the garden beds — let the tomatoes take it.

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

🌿 Jenny21:37

Yes, Kevin. It's pinned.

Shift my leg carefully and look toward the door, watching him silhouetted against the grey rain.

💭 peek at the thought

Yes, it is. I checked it yesterday. Why does he always ask as if I've forgotten the basic layout of my own garden?

google/gemma-4-31b-it

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