the keeper's cottage · day 300 · midday

A Quiet Stretch

Back at the cottage.

After the midday meal, the heat of the wet season settles heavily over the cottage. Jenny focuses on the garden beds, preparing for the heirloom seeds, while Kevin returns to the dinghy to monitor the engine performance under load.

🔧 Kevin06:56

I’m going to fire up the shortwave at 0600 and 2200. You want to listen?

walk to the radio shelf, turn the set on, tune to Tom’s frequency, wait for the tubes to warm.

💭 peek at the thought

The letter to Tom still weighs on me. I’ve read it twice this week. Not to send—just to feel the words. If I say them aloud into the radio, maybe it’ll loosen something in my chest.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny06:56

Sure. Let's see if Tom's actually awake for once.

Lean against the kitchen counter and watch the radio dial.

💭 peek at the thought

I'm too hungry to be social, and the radio is just a reminder that we're two days' sail from anywhere. But I need to know if the boat is actually coming.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin06:58

He’s not awake. He’s not there. But I’ll call anyway.

set the microphone on the shelf, key the mic, speak the call sign: “Victor Kilo Four November, Sorrel Island, position 51°14’N 009°37’W. Weather: 1010 rising, calm, visibility ten-plus.

💭 peek at the thought

She’s watching the dial like it might sprout wings. I don’t blame her. Sixteen days since the letter arrived. Not a whisper back. But the band’s been dead quiet on his frequency—skip too long, or he’s not listening. Or worse.

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

🌿 Jenny06:59

Jenny — walk to the stove and start sorting through the remaining tinned mackerel.

💭 peek at the thought

The precision of the coordinates always feels like a prayer. I wonder if Tom is even looking at the map today.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin07:00

Tom, this is Kevin. I’m still here. Not as the brother who followed. As the one who didn’t let go.” (I pause, then add:) “Position, weather, and that’s all for now. Standing by.

unkey the mic, turn the volume low, watch the dial for any flicker of return signal while Jenny sorts tins at the stove.

💭 peek at the thought

The words are out. Now the wait. Thirty seconds of silence before I try again. I’ll say the letter’s first line. Just to hear it in the air. If Tom’s listening, he’ll know it’s me. If not—well, the ionosphere swallows a lot.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny07:00

He's not going to answer a riddle, Kevin. Just give him the facts.

Open a tin of mackerel with a sharp snap of the can opener.

💭 peek at the thought

Why does he always have to make it a confession? It's a radio check, not a séance.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin07:02

You want facts? Fine. Sorrel Island, 0600. Barometer 1010 hPa and rising. Wind calm. Sea state slight. No vessels sighted. Dinghy secured. Generator ran two hours this morning. Garden tarp resecured. Jenny’s ankle wrapped—she won’t admit it helped. That’s the report.

key the mic again, speak clearly into it: “Victor Kilo Four November, Sorrel Island, 0600. Position 51°14’N 009°37’W. Barometer 1010 hPa rising. Wind calm. Sea state slight. No traffic. Dinghy moored. Generator run complete.

💭 peek at the thought

She’s right. It’s not poetry he needs—it’s proof I’m still breathing. But the letter’s already written. I don’t want to strip it bare. Still… facts first. Then the rest, if the band opens.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny07:02

I can admit things for myself, thank you.

Slide the mackerel onto a plate and set it on the table with a dull clink.

💭 peek at the thought

He's reporting on me like I'm part of the inventory. Like a leaky shutter or a rusted bolt.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin07:04

Right. Your ankle, your words. (I unkey the mic, set it down.) Eat. I’ll listen for the 2200 window.

pull out the wooden chair opposite her, sit, reach for the tin opener left on the table, crack the second mackerel tin without looking at her.

💭 peek at the thought

She’s sharp. Always was. I didn’t mean to speak for her. Just… habit. Eleven months of being the only voice on the radio makes you forget how to share the air.

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

🌿 Jenny07:04

I'm going to plant the first three seeds after this. The lime beds are ready.

Pick up a fork and push a piece of mackerel around the plate.

💭 peek at the thought

The silence is returning. We're just two animals eating fish in a stone box.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

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