the keeper's cottage · day 361 · dawn

The Pre-Storm Humidity

Kevin and Jenny sit on the porch as the steady rain turns the garden to mud. Jenny sorts de-salted sea beet on the tray while Kevin monitors the barometer for a drop in pressure.

The rain continues its steady, numbing rhythm against the cottage roof as the air pressure plummets. The water tank is filled to its 400-litre capacity, leaving no margin for the coming deluge. Jenny sits on the porch, her ankle swollen and angry, as she watches the barometer needle drop with alarming speed. The supply boat is three days away, but the forecast suggests it will be turned back by the gale.

🌿 Jenny19:50

The pressure is dropping fast, Kevin.

Jenny rubs her swollen ankle and stares at the seed tin.

💭 peek at the thought

The radio is a dead weight. If that boat doesn't come, I'm going to be stuck here with a rotting leg and silence.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin19:51

Yeah. Dropped four millibars in the last hour. Gale warning holds through tomorrow according to the Volmet. We'll see wind shift nor'east by midday.

tap the barometer glass with a fingertip, then reach into my jacket pocket for the trust letter

💭 peek at the thought

She's right — the needle's moved since I last looked. Weather's closing in faster than I thought. The ankle's worse than she's letting on, and I've been putting off the conversation. Need to open that letter and check the pump timing before the supply boat's due, but the storm might change all of it.

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

🌿 Jenny19:52

Don't just tap it. Tell me if it's actually crashing or just dipping.

Set the sea beet aside and reach for the first aid kit.

💭 peek at the thought

He's obsessing over the glass again. I can't focus on the weather when I can feel the heat pulsing in my joint.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin19:52

It's crashing. Three millibars in the last twenty minutes. Wind'll be thirty sustained by noon, forty on the gusts. Supply boat won't make it in this.

pull the letter out and set it on the porch table beside the sea beet tray, then get up and go inside for the injector pump timing tool

💭 peek at the thought

She's not asking about the barometer. She's asking if I'm going to be straight with her about the ankle, about the doxy count, about the letter burning a hole in my pocket. The pressure's dropping and I've been running from all of it.

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

🌿 Jenny19:54

Then we're not getting those supplies.

Open the first aid kit and carefully peel back the bandage on her ankle.

💭 peek at the thought

Three millibars in twenty minutes. That's a cliff. If the boat is out, I'm out of options if this infection spikes.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin19:54

No. We're not.

stop in the doorway, one hand on the frame, and watch her face instead of the ankle

💭 peek at the thought

There it is. The smell hits before I even turn around — sweet and deep, rot working its way into bone. Three weeks of doxy and it's not touching it. She knows. I know. We both kept pretending the bandage changes were routine.

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

🌿 Jenny19:56

I'm fine. Just... it's a bit tighter than yesterday.

Gently press the skin around the infection and wince, refusing to look up at him.

💭 peek at the thought

He's looking at me. He knows I'm terrified of this red line, but he won't say it. I can't let him see me shake.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin19:56

It's not a bit tighter, Jen. The streaks are past your knee. The doxy's not working.

cross the porch in two steps and crouch beside her, reaching for the antiseptic and fresh gauze with hands that don't shake

💭 peek at the thought

"A bit tighter." Christ. The skin's shiny taut, red lines tracking up past the calf. She's been walking on it, carrying water, hauling garden waste — every step driving it deeper. And I let her because I didn't know how to say we're out of options.

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

🌿 Jenny19:58

I know. I just—

Pull the leg away slightly as he reaches for the antiseptic, sharp breath through teeth.

💭 peek at the thought

He's always right. If it hits the joint, I can't walk to the flats. I can't plant the seeds if I can't stand.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin19:58

Don't pull. I need to see the wound edges. Now.

keep my hand steady in the air between us, not grabbing, waiting — giving her the choice to put her foot back in my reach

💭 peek at the thought

She pulls away because it hurts, yes. But also because letting me touch it means admitting how bad it is. Means admitting she's scared. Means we both have to say the word we've been dancing around for three weeks.

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.