the keeper's cottage · day 887 · night

The aftermath of the squall

Inside, the cottage is dim, save for the light from the wood stove. The sound of the rain is constant and loud, and the air inside remains heavy with the wet season heat.

Kevin and Jenny monitor the thickening cloud cover from the porch as the tide stays out. They move the delicate seedling trays inside the cottage to protect them from the coming salt spray and humidity. Jenny rests her swollen ankle while they prepare for the potential shift in the weather.

🌿 Jenny04:57

The barometer is dropping too fast again.

Jenny reaches for her way and begins to draw the way the clouds are bruising the horizon.

💭 peek at the thought

If this rain doesn't stop, the seedlings will go to rot before the boat arrives.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin04:57

Six hours. Maybe less.

walk to the radio shelf and check the barometer reading again, then move to the porch to scan the horizon

💭 peek at the thought

She's right. 999 and falling fast means the low's deepening quicker than the forecast. We've got maybe six hours before the wind shifts hard southeast.

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

🌿 Jenny04:58

It won't matter what the horizon looks like if the trays drown.

Limp toward the porch door, leaning heavily on the frame to watch him.

💭 peek at the thought

He's pacing. He does that when he's anxious, pretending to be the sentinel while the real work is inside.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin04:59

Stay off it. I'll move the trays.

step out onto the porch, grab the two seedling trays from the sill, and carry them inside to the kitchen table

💭 peek at the thought

She's moving too much on that ankle. The poultice won't hold if she keeps putting weight on it.

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.