the keeper's cottage · day 867 · evening

Evening Huddle

The rain tapers to a drizzle as evening falls. Kevin and Jenny meet by the stove to check the supplies before the supply boat approaches.

The humidity is a physical weight, making the air inside the cottage feel thick and stagnant. Jenny sits at the kitchen table, her face pale as she rubs her swollen, throbbing ankle, though she winces with every movement. Kevin stands by the rain tank, tapping the plastic with his knuckles to listen for the hollow echo, his eyes tracking the water line against the wall.

🌿 Jenny02:27

The boat is seven days. We need to check the water levels again.

Lean heavily against the kitchen counter, rubbing the side of my swollen ankle while hiding the grimace.

💭 peek at the thought

My ankle is throbbing in time with the tide, and if this humidity doesn't drop, I'm going to lose the foot.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:28

Tank's at three-ninety-seven. Full. Generator fuel's clean, filter held. Two drums left sound, one still weeping at the seam.

walk to the back wall and tap the rain tank, listening to the tone

💭 peek at the thought

She's still hiding the pain. The ankle's not right — swelling should be down by now with the antibiotics. But she won't say it, and I won't push unless she does. Water check first.

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

🌿 Jenny02:29

Fix the seam with the epoxy tomorrow before we lose another liter.

Sketch a quick, jagged line of the rot in the sill on the margin of my notebook.

💭 peek at the thought

Three-ninety-seven is enough for now, but that weeping drum is a waste of fuel.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:31

Mark it on the repair list. Epoxy cure's too slow in this damp, I'll need to strip the old sealant first.

pick up the epoxy tub and check the remaining quantity against the jerry can sealant needed for tomorrow

💭 peek at the thought

Another seam leaking, another thing to do before the supplier boat. Her sketch shows the full extent — I can see where the wood's eaten through clean to the framing. Epoxy tomorrow, but tonight it's still tacky from this humidity.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🌿 Jenny02:33

Make sure you use the wire brush. The rot is deep in the wood.

Wince as I shift my weight, the pain a sharp hot needle through my ankle.

💭 peek at the thought

If he doesn't strip it properly, the whole patch will just peel off in the next swell.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:34

Wire brush, wire wheel on the drill, then epoxy deep. You need the other dose tonight.

set the epoxy tub down and pull the wire brush from the tool roll, then reach for the medical kit on the shelf

💭 peek at the thought

She's right about the wire brush — surface epoxy won't hold if the rot's eating the grain. But I see her shift, see the way her breath catches. The antibiotics should've knocked the infection back by now. If the swelling's not down by morning, I'm cracking open the metronidazole reserve.

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

🌿 Jenny02:35

Just give them to me. I can't sleep through it.

Reach for the tin of seeds, my fingers trembling slightly as I touch the metal.

💭 peek at the thought

The infection is moving, I can feel the heat line creeping up my shin. I'm so tired.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:36

Here. Two doxy, two metro. Wash them down.

pull the blister packs from the medical kit, pop four tablets into my palm, and hold them out to her with the tin mug of water

💭 peek at the thought

She's shaking. Not from cold. The infection's tracking or the pain's worse than she's saying. Either way, she needs the meds and I need to see that ankle proper — not by lantern light, not through gauze. The seeds can wait.

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

🌿 Jenny02:37

Thank you. The humidity is killing me.

Swallow the pills with a long gulp of lukewarm water, then lean back against the stone wall.

💭 peek at the thought

If the swelling doesn't break, I won't be able to walk to the ridge tomorrow.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:38

Sit here. I'll bring the lantern closer.

move the storm lantern from the porch table to the kitchen shelf beside her, then pull the wooden stool over and sit down across from her ankles up

💭 peek at the thought

She's fading fast. The humidity's thick enough to drink, and her body's fighting something the antibiotics haven't touched yet. I'll give the meds an hour, then check the ankle again — proper light, proper look. If the red line's moved, I'm opening the last of the trimethoprim. For now, let her rest.

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.