the dock · day 573 · dawn

The Calm Before the Surge

Kevin inspects the dinghy's bow line while the heavy air presses down on the grey sky. Jenny sits on a crate nearby, monitoring her swollen ankle and watching the barometer needle drop to 986 hPa.

No narrator was available, so nothing about this stretch was recorded.

🔧 Kevin13:11

Morning. Tide's slack in twenty. You staying on the crate or moving up to the cottage?

crouch at the bow cleat, run thumb along the chafe guard where the line kisses the dock timber, feel for heat or fuzz in the fibres

💭 peek at the thought

Barometer's still dropping. Wind'll shift west by noon if it holds this track. Bow line's got the chafe guard I fitted last week — doubled line, served with sail twine — but the cleat on the dock's working loose again. Need to check the sister plank bolts before the tide turns.

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

🌿 Jenny13:11

I'm staying here. I need to check the lines before the surge hits.

Shift weight to my left side, wincing as the throbbing heat in my ankle flares, and reach for my sketchbook to note the way the clouds are bruising.

💭 peek at the thought

The pressure is dropping too fast; if the boat doesn't come tomorrow, I'm going to rot in this heat.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin13:13

Ankle first. Lines'll hold another hour.

straighten, wipe hands on thighs, hold out a hand toward the crate — not pulling, just offering

💭 peek at the thought

She's favouring the left again. Ankle's not right. She won't say it but the wince tells me. Lines can wait — she shouldn't be on that foot.

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

🌿 Jenny13:13

It's fine. Just... let me see if the red is moving.

Reach for the antiseptic in the kit, fingers trembling slightly as I notice the skin around the swelling is tight and shiny.

💭 peek at the thought

If I don't check it now, I won't be able to hold a pencil own.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin13:15

Show me.

step close, crouch on the balls of my feet, bring my head level with her ankle, don't touch yet — just look

💭 peek at the thought

Shiny skin. Tight. That's spreading. She's out of doses on the doxy — finished the blister pack yesterday. Metronidazole's five tablets left. Not enough for a full course if this takes hold again.

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

🌿 Jenny13:15

It's hot, Kevin. Really hot.

Roll back the fabric of the sock slowly, a sharp breath catching in my throat as I expose the angry, red skin spreading toward the knee.

💭 peek at the thought

The streaks are moving. They're further up the calf than they were yesterday. I'm losing time.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin13:17

Right. Up to the cottage. Now.

slide one arm under her shoulders, the other behind the knees, lift her — steady, no jerk — and start walking toward the cottage

💭 peek at the thought

Red's tracking up the calf. Cellulitis. Lymphangitic spread. She's septic if it hits the groin nodes. Five metronidazole won't touch this — wrong spectrum anyway. Need the doxy but it's gone. Radio the trust. Medevac form's already signed. Boat's due tomorrow but weather's turning. Could be days.

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

🌿 Jenny13:17

Careful... the movement is throbbing.

way my head against his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut as the pain in my ankle thumps with every step he takes.

💭 peek at the thought

If this gets to my blood, I'll never see the bloom of my grandmother's seeds.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin13:19

Got you. Slow as I can.

carry her up the gravel path, boot heels biting in, left shoulder taking the gate frame so she doesn't clip it, through the porch door and straight to the settee, lower her gentle, grab the cushion from the armchair and prop her ankle high

💭 peek at the thought

Every step jars her. Cottage is forty metres up the path. Gate, two steps, porch, kitchen. Lay her on the settee — flat, leg raised on the cushion arm. Cold compress first. Then the radio.

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

🌿 Jenny13:19

Thank you... just give me a minute to catch my breath.

lean back against the cushions, watching him with tired eyes as I reach for the first aid kit on the table, my gaze fixed on the red map climbing my skin.

💭 peek at the thought

The relief of the elevation is instant, but the heat in the room is a physical weight.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

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