the old shrine · day 711 · evening

Evening at the shrine

Rain has eased to a fine mist. Kevin and Jenny walk the ridge path together toward the ring of weathered stones, carrying a lantern. The tide is turning, surf audible below the cliffs. Tin E stays on the counter, unopened.

Kevin and Jenny stood at the old shrine as evening light faded, watching a pod of dolphins arc close off the point. They confirmed the supply boat's ETA for the high tide in three days and agreed on priorities: unloading fuel, flour, and the shower pump valve first, then replacing the two marked fence posts with greenheart offcuts. Jenny pressed Kevin on the antibiotics for her ankle, and he reassured her the captain had logged them.

🔧 Kevin02:35

Radio check at dusk. Boat's due on the high. Three days.

walk the ridge path toward the old shrine, lantern in hand

💭 peek at the thought

The mist clings to the wool. Jenny's stride is shorter on the uphill — ankle still stiff, though she won't say. Lantern throws long shadows across the stones. Tin E sits on the counter, sealed. She said leave it. I'll honor that, but the question sits in my throat like a fish bone.

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

🌿 Jenny02:37

I'll check the manifest the moment they dock. We need those supplies.

Trace the worn carving on the flat stone with a thumb.

💭 peek at the thought

Three days. If the manifest is empty of antibiotics again, I'm going to that ridge regardless of the swelling.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:37

Manifest first. Then we unload before the tide turns.

set the lantern on a flat stone, hands in pockets against the damp chill

💭 peek at the thought

Her thumb finds the same groove every time. The name's gone, worn smooth by salt and wind, but she knows where it was. Three days of supplies — flour, fuel, the valve. Maybe letters. Maybe not. The manifest matters. So does what's not on it.

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

🌿 Jenny02:39

Right. Just make sure they have the antibiotics for the leg.

Look out over the half-weeded garden below the ridge.

💭 peek at the thought

He always talks about the manifest. He doesn't see the seeds waiting.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:39

They'll have them. Trust captain wrote it in the log.

glance toward the garden, then back to the stones, shoulder brushing hers in the mist

💭 peek at the thought

Antibiotics. She's counting the blister packs in her head — four doxycycline left, five metronidazole. The leg's healing but the red line hasn't faded. Boat brings more. If the boat comes. If the manifest's right. Her eyes track down to the garden, the half-weeded beds, the spruce trunk still blocking the path. She sees what I see: work undone.

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

🌿 Jenny02:43

He better have. I can't wait another ten days.

Shift the weight off the ankle, wincing at the sharp spike of pain.

💭 peek at the thought

I hope he's right. The infection is getting deep and the skin is hot.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:43

Boat's due. Trust captain doesn't break his word.

step closer, steadying hand on her elbow, watching the cliff edge where the path drops away

💭 peek at the thought

The wince is small. She hides most of them. Ten days without antibiotics and the leg decides for us — medevac forms in the dry bag, signed, ready. The helicopter doesn't care about tide or weather. I've seen the forms. She signed them. That's the bargain we made.

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

🌿 Jenny02:45

I hope he does. I'm tired of waiting.

Tighten grip on the tin in my pocket, feeling the cold metal through the fabric.

💭 peek at the thought

If the boat doesn't come, I'm going to lose my mind on this island.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

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