the keeper's cottage · day 879 · night

The tide rises above the dock

The humidity reaches a breaking point as the supply boat is still five days away.

Kevin lit the forge and began shaping the leaf spring into a trowel blade, heating and hammering the steel through several cycles while the cottage door stood open for airflow. Jenny remained on the cot with her infected ankle elevated, sketching the ceiling mold patterns and declining food, her fever making the heat feel heavier.

🔧 Kevin13:39

Radio first. Then the forge.

walk to the workshop and pull the leaf spring from the shelf, set it on the anvil, light the forge with pine kindling and wait for the steel to cherry

💭 peek at the thought

The air is thick enough to drink. Five days until the boat, if it comes. Jenny's ankle needs the copper work done on the radio so we can call if the fever spikes again, but my hands are swelling in this heat and the epoxy won't cure. The garden bed she marked out is still just weeds. I said I'd forge the trowel today. I didn't.

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

🌿 Jenny13:41

Don't let the sparks hit the workbench.

Sit on the edge of the cot, clutching my throbbing ankle, and sketch the pattern of the mold on the ceiling in my notebook.

💭 peek at the thought

He's so focused on the metal while I'm literally rotting from here. The heat is making the fever spike again.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin13:41

Sparks fly where the hammer sends them. Bench is clear.

pull the bellows chain steady, watch the spring color climb from dull red to bright orange, lift it with tongs and set the first hammer blow to spread the tines

💭 peek at the thought

She's watching. Always watching. The mold sketch is her way of measuring how fast the rot's moving — her ankle, the ceiling, the timeline. She doesn't trust me to finish things. Can't say I blame her.

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

🌿 Jenny13:43

It's too hot in here.

Wipe the sweat from my eyes with the back of my hand and stare at the tin of seeds on the table.

💭 peek at the thought

Every strike of that hammer is a pulse in my shin. I can't even focus on the lines.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin13:43

Open the door. Get air moving.

set the half-forged trowel back in the fire to hold heat, wipe hands on jeans, walk to the cottage door and slide it wide, prop it with the cedar wedge

💭 peek at the thought

She's not talking about the forge. The seed tin on the table — grandmother's, rusted through at the bottom seam. She's been staring at it for days. Waiting for me to open it, or maybe waiting for me to admit what's inside is already dead. The heat's just the excuse.

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

🌿 Jenny13:45

Jenny — lean back against the cool stone wall and close my eyes, listening to the rain hit the tin.

💭 peek at the thought

The draft is cold, but it's better than this stagnant soup. My ankle feels like it's breathing. continuedSAY: Thanks.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin13:45

Coffee's on the stove if you want it.

turn back to the forge, pull the trowel at welding heat, hammer the blade thin and true, punch the tang hole for the handle

💭 peek at the thought

Rain on the roof sounds like the sea did, those forty minutes. She hears it different — just rain. The tin on the table catches drops through the door gap. Grandmother's seeds. I should've planted them months ago. Promised Jenny a garden. Promised myself I'd stop waiting for the sea to take me back.

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

🌿 Jenny13:46

I'm not hungry.

Pull the blanket tighter around my legs and watch the orange glow of the forge reflect in the window glass.

💭 peek at the thought

I can't even stand up to reach the stove. He's acting like everything is normal while I'm trapped on this bed.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

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