You and Jenny return to the cottage, sit at the kitchen table, and share the boiled limpets and a simple stew. The rain continues to fall, and you both prepare for the night.
Kevin and Jenny finished their evening meal and secured the cottage against the weather. Kevin checked the porch door seal and generator lashings while Jenny tended to her ankle and retired to bed. The barometer continues to rise as night falls.
🌿 Jenny04:43
The water is holding for now, but check the tank in morning.
Lean back, taking a slow sip of water, and reach out to touch Jenny's hand on the table.
💭 peek at the thought
My ankle is throbbing in time with the rain. I hope the antibiotics hold until the boat comes; I can't lose this leg.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it
🔧 Kevin04:43
Yeah. I’ll check it at first light. Tank’s holding.
squeeze Jenny’s hand gently, then let go and pick up my bowl to finish the limpets.
💭 peek at the thought
The limpets taste of salt and seaweed, simple and clean. Jenny’s hand is warm, her skin dry where the poultice was. I don’t say much, but I’m glad she’s eating, glad the rain hasn’t broken through yet. The tank’s at 391 — enough for tonight, but I’ll check it first thing. The barometer’s rising, but the sky’s still low. I keep thinking about the mooring ring — it held through the storm, but I know it’s not truly fixed. I’ll need to pull the wedges and reset the bolts before the supply boat comes. For now, though, I just want to sit here, quiet, with her.
nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b
🌿 Jenny04:45
Don't stay up too late. The barometer is dropping.
Finish the last of the stew and push the bowl to the center.
💭 peek at the thought
He's being good, but the silence is too heavy tonight. I need to focus on the seeds tomorrow.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it
🔧 Kevin04:45
Won't. Just the porch door and the genny straps. Then I'm down.
collect both bowls and the kettle, carry them to the sink, and set them in the basin without running water — just let them sit.
💭 peek at the thought
She's right. The barometer was 975 and rising when I checked earlier, but she's been watching it closer than I have. If it's dropping again, the front's not done with us. I should secure the porch door properly and check the generator lashings before I turn in. The radio aerial's still shattered — if the wind picks up, the coax could whip loose. But she's already heading to bed, and I know she won't sleep well if I'm clattering around. I'll move quiet.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny04:47
Goodnight.
Stand up slowly, wincing as the weight shifts, and head toward the bedroom.
💭 peek at the thought
The heat in my ankle is pulsing again. If it gets worse, I won't even be able to walk to the garden.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it
🔧 Kevin04:47
Night.
walk to the porch door, lift the latch, pull it tight against the weatherstripping, and drop the heavy timber bar into its brackets; then step to the generator shed, pull the ratchet straps taut on the hold-downs, and cinch the loose end.
💭 peek at the thought
She's trying to hide the limp, but I see it. The ankle's better than yesterday, but it's not right. She won't let me carry her, won't let me make a fuss. I'll check the door and the generator, then I'll sit with the radio a while — listen for the supply boat's schedule, maybe catch Tom's frequency if the skip's right. But not tonight. Tonight I just want to hear her breathing slow down in the next room.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny04:49
(Quiet)
Sit on the bed, propping the leg up on a pillow, and watch the shadows of the rain on the ceiling.
💭 peek at the thought
The air is so thick I can taste the salt. I need to check that ankle in the morning before the red lines move further.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it
🔧 Kevin04:49
Kevin — fill the kettle from the tank tap, set it on the stove, strike a match to the kindling, and wait for the whistle; pour two mugs, carry one to the bedroom doorway and set it on the floor beside the bed without stepping in, then return to the
💭 peek at the thought
The rain's steady now, no wind. Just the hiss on the roof and the occasional drip from the porch eave into the bucket. The generator's quiet. The door's barred. I could sit at the radio, but the static's thick tonight and Tom's frequency's been dead for weeks. I'll make tea instead — one mug for the nightstand, one for me. Then I'll sit in the kitchen chair until the house settles.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny04:51
Thanks.
Reach for the mug on the cold floor, wrap both hands around the warmth, and close my eyes against the pulse.
💭 peek at the thought
The steam from the tea is the only thing moving in the room. I'm so tired of even thinking about the seed tray.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it
🔧 Kevin04:51
Kevin — lean the doorframe, cradle my own mug, and stand there a moment longer — just watching the steam rise from hers, the rise and fall of her shoulders — before turning back to the kitchen.
💭 peek at the thought
She's holding the mug like it's the only solid thing in the world. The pulse in her ankle's keeping her awake — I can see it in the way her jaw's set, the way her thumb rubs the ceramic. I should've brought the ibuprofen from the med kit. But she didn't ask, and I didn't offer. We're both bad at that. I'll leave the mug here, go drink mine at the table, and listen to the rain until it changes.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny04:53
(Soft exhale)
Take a sip of the tea, let it warm my throat, and try to sleep through the rain.
💭 peek at the thought
The swelling is going to break the skin. If the boat doesn't come in four days, I'm out of options.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it
🔧 Kevin04:53
Kevin — pull out the kitchen chair, sit heavy, wrap both hands around the tin mug, and stare at the grain of the table — letting the quiet fill the space where words don't go.
💭 peek at the thought
The kitchen's cold. The radio's silent under its tarp. I should check the barometer again, log it in the notebook, maybe sketch the dock repair I'll do tomorrow — through-bolts, new wedges, epoxy in the mortise. But the tea's good, hot and bitter, and the rain's a steady hiss on the roof. No wind. The barometer can wait. The sketch can wait. I'll sit here until the mug's empty, then I'll bank the stove and go lie down beside her. Not touching. Just close enough to feel the heat off her skin.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b