← Day 425

the dock · day 425 · evening

The rising tide

The water is now higher than when Kevin left, and the flat sky darkens as the cloud cover increases.

The rain has finally broken from the west, turning the world into a grey wall of lashing. The tide is turning, pushing water back up against the dock pilings with a heavy swell. Kevin and Jenny have retreated to the cottage, the smell of damp wood and the sound of heavy drumming on the roof following them.

🌿 Jenny08:55

Kevin! Get back from the dock! The tide is turning and the wind is shifting west!

Stand up with a wince, clutching my throbbing ankle, and look out the window.

💭 peek at the thought
The barometer is dropping too fast; if that storm hits while he's out, the dinghy will be lost.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin08:55

Checking the shackle. Two minutes.

lean over the dock edge to inspect the shackle housing at the waterline, watching how the ring sits in the mortise under the rising tide

💭 peek at the thought
She's right — water's climbing the piling fast and the wind's backing west. That swell lag I wrote in the notebook means the real load comes after the turn. Need to check the shackle housing while the ring's still accessible, then get back.

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

🌿 Jenny08:57

We don't have two minutes! The water is already hitting the jetty, Kevin! Come in now!

Grab the radio and step heavily toward the door, ignoring the sharp flare in my ankle.

💭 peek at the thought
Two minutes is all it takes for a surge to rip those rotten planks off. He's being reckless again.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin08:57

Coming.

turn and walk back up the dock path toward the cottage, favouring the left ankle, stepping onto the porch as Jenny reaches the door

💭 peek at the thought
She's not wrong. Water's up to the lower planks already and the west wind will push it harder. Shackle looked clean last check but the housing's compromised — won't know till it loads. Better to be on the cottage side of the door when the surge hits.

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

🌿 Jenny08:58

Inside. Now. Before the sky opens up.

Step aside to let him in, leaning heavily against the doorframe for support.

💭 peek at the thought
He looks exhausted. We're both falling apart, and the rain is about to hammer us.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin08:59

You first.

step through the doorway into the cottage kitchen, reach back to catch the door before the wind grabs it, pull it shut and drop the bar

💭 peek at the thought
Doorframe's taking her weight. Ankle's worse than she'll admit. Get us both inside, bar the door, then check the generator lashings and the tank level before the real weather arrives.

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

🌿 Jenny09:01

Sit down. You're literally shaking.

Limp to the kitchen chair, wincing as I shift weight off the swollen ankle, and sit.

💭 peek at the thought
He's always like that, even when he's barely standing straight. My leg feels like it's on fire though.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin09:01

Just cold. Back in a minute.

stay standing, move to the stove and check the kettle, pour hot water into the two tin mugs, set one on the table in front of Jenny

💭 peek at the thought
Hands are trembling. Cold seeped in deeper than I thought at the dock. Adrenaline dropping out. Metronidazole's only day two. Sit, breathe, let the heat come back. She needs the chair more.

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

🌿 Jenny09:03

Drink. It's hot. Sit before you collapse on the linoleum.

Reach for the mug, wrapping both hands around the warmth, and watch him.

💭 peek at the thought
He's not just cold, he's exhausted. And I'm through with it.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin09:03

Yeah.

pull out the other chair, sit heavily, wrap hands around the mug and let the heat climb into fingers, watching the steam rise

💭 peek at the thought
She's not asking. The mug's steam rises between us — same tin, same dented rim, the way she holds it with both hands. Forty minutes in Biscay taught me cold kills slower than you think but it still kills. Sit. Drink. Let the heat do its work.

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

🌿 Jenny09:04

I have the metronidazole ready on the table. We need to clean your dressing, too.

Nod toward the blister pack and gauze laid out on the kitchen table.

💭 peek at the thought
The silence is getting heavy again. I need to deal with this infection before the red line moves any higher.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin09:05

After the mug.

finish the hot water in two swallows, set the mug down, reach for the blister pack and pop two metronidazole tablets, swallow them dry, then peel back the tape on the ankle brace

💭 peek at the thought
Dressing's due. Drainage up, skin inflamed yesterday — metronidazole's doing its job but the wound needs air and clean gauze. She's steady now. Hands not shaking. Good.

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

🌿 Jenny09:07

Let me see it. Don't try to pull the tape yourself.

Kneel on the kitchen floor, reaching for the damp bandage and the antiseptic.

💭 peek at the thought
He's always rushing the medicine. If that infection doesn't hold, we're in trouble.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin09:07

It's ugly.

hold still, foot extended on the chair rung, letting her unwind the brace and peel back the gauze, the cool air hitting the raw skin

💭 peek at the thought
Kneeling on that floor with her ankle can't be easy. She did this yesterday too — didn't ask, just did. The poultice smell hits: sea beet, yarrow, salt. Drainage's darker than yesterday. Infection's fighting its way out. Let her work.

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.

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