the dock · day 512 · morning

The Rising Tide

The tide begins to turn, covering the exposed rocks as the wind gusts intensify.

The tide is rising rapidly, licking at the lower planks of the dock. Jenny sits on the edge, her ankle submerged in the bucket of salt water, hissing as the salt stings the inflamed skin. Kevin braces himself against a piling, holding the tension on the mooring lines to ensure the dinghy doesn't chafe against the rising swell.

🔧 Kevin00:02

Kevin — run double lines from the dinghy's bow and stern to the pilings, then take up the slack on the mooring ring with the come-along, checking each knot as the water rises.

💭 peek at the thought

The tide's coming in fast and the wind's picking up—got to secure the dock before the surge hits the pilings. Jenny's still on the porch, ankle wrapped, silent. I should check on her after I tie off the lines.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny00:05

The tide is coming in fast. Watch the lines.

Jenny stands up slowly, wincing as the weight shifts on her ankle, and grips the bucket of salt water.

💭 peek at the thought

The barometer is dropping through the floor; if that boat doesn't come in two days, I'm out of antibiotics.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin00:05

I’ve got it. Sit back down before you make it worse.

Keep tensioning the storm warp from the dinghy bow to the windward piling, then secure the stern line to the leeward piling with a round turn and two half-hitches, watching for chafing as the tide lifts the boat.

💭 peek at the thought

She’s moving despite the pain—doesn’t want to be a burden. I’ll handle the lines; she should stay off that ankle.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny00:07

I need to debride it before it gets worse.

Jenny ignores him, limps to the edge of the dock, and prepares to soak her ankle in the salt water.

💭 peek at the thought

way thinks I'm the one breaking, but I'm the one watching the rot spread.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin00:07

Go ahead. I’ll hold this.

brace myself sideways against the piling to take the strain of the mooring lines, one hand on the bucket to keep it from spilling as Jenny dips her ankle in, the other ready to cast off if the dinghy surges.

💭 peek at the thought

She’s set on cleaning the wound—salt water’s the best we’ve got. I’ll hold the bucket steady and keep an eye on the lines while she works.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny00:09

way watch the jetty. The wind is picking up.

Jenny lowers herbbing ankle into the salt water, hissing as the sting hits the infected skin.

💭 peek at the thought

way's so useful when he's not talking, but he doesn't see the swelling.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin00:09

I’ll check the jetty. Keep it clean.

Move along the jetty on the balls of my feet, testing each plank for give, then shove a spare fender (the coiled rope) between the dinghy’s gunwale and the rotting starboard corner where the jetty meets the dock, watching for splash-over as

💭 peek at the thought

The wind’s kicking up chop against the jetty—those rotten planks are going to take a beating. I need to check the fenders and make sure the dinghy isn’t pounding the dock.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny00:10

It's not just the jetty, Kevin. The pressure is falling.

Jenny reaches for the tweezers and the salt-crusted cloth, carefully peeling back the gauze to expose the red streaks.

💭 peek at the thought

He's treating the boat like a child while my leg is turning into a wasteland.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin00:11

Hold still. I’ll give you the doxy.

Rip open the blister pack, drop one doxycycline tablet into her palm, then grab the mallet and drive two more oak wedges into the mooring ring mortise, sealing them with a few blows while the tide laps at the planks.

💭 peek at the thought

Barometer’s falling, wind’s west—exactly what the notes warned about. The streaks mean the infection’s spreading. I’ve got to get the antibiotic in her and double down on the dock before dark.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny00:13

I took it. way... keep an eye on the tide.

Jenny swallows the pill dry with a grimace, then leans back against the timber, watching the salt water ripple around her ankle.

💭 peek at the thought

He's always fixing the wood, never the rot under the surface.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

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