the dock · day 410 · evening

Evening and Rising Tide

The tide now laps high against the weakened south pilings. The air remains perfectly still as the barometer continues its slow drop.

Kevin inspected the south pilings of the dock and marked the high-water line with a crowbar. He helped Jenny back to the cottage as the rain continued, steadying her swollen ankle. Inside, he dressed her wound and set out her final dose of antibiotics.

🌿 Jenny19:11

You still out there?

Lean against the dock railing, rubbing the swollen joint of my ankle.

💭 peek at the thought

The air is too still. It feels like the island is holding its breath before it screams.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin19:11

Aye. Checking the sister plank on the south piling. Rot's deeper than the bolts reach.

Shine the headlamp beam along the greenheart sister where it meets the old piling, probing the joint with the tip of the crowbar.

💭 peek at the thought

She's favouring the bad ankle, standing in the cold damp. The streaks haven't spread but the heat in the calf hasn't dropped either. I should've made her stay inside.

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

🌿 Jenny19:13

The tide is too high for more work anyway. Come in.

Sketch the way the wood is fraying under the light beam in my notebook.

💭 peek at the thought

If that jetty goes, the supply boat can't dock and I'm stuck here with nothing but weeds and infection.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin19:15

In a minute. Want to mark the waterline on the piling first — gives us a baseline for the scour.

Scratch a horizontal mark into the piling at the current tide height with the crowbar tip, then climb back up onto the dock planking toward the cottage.

💭 peek at the thought

She's right. Tide's peaked, nothing more to see tonight. But she's sketching rot patterns instead of sitting down. Stubborn.

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

🌿 Jenny19:15

Just don't fall in. I'm too weak to haul you out today.

Close the notebook and start walking slowly toward the cottage, favoring the bad leg.

💭 peek at the thought

He's so obsessed with the baseline, but the water is already winning. I can feel the dampness in my bones.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin19:16

Wouldn't give you the satisfaction.

Follow her up the path, slowing my stride to match her limp, headlamp beam lowered to light the boards.

💭 peek at the thought

Forty minutes in black water. She doesn't know I still hear it sometimes — the suck and roar. She's joking but her hands are tight on the rail.

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

🌿 Jenny19:17

(Laughs softly) You're just afraid I'd make you walk back to the mainland.

Lean slightly into him for balance as we reach the porch.

💭 peek at the thought

He's trying to be sweet, but the silence between us is still too heavy.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin19:19

Two days' sail in this dinghy? You'd talk my ear off the whole way.

Steady her with a hand at her elbow, guide her through the cottage door, reach past to hook the storm latch.

💭 peek at the thought

The weight of her shoulder against mine — first time in weeks she's let herself lean. The ankle's bad enough she can't hide it. I should've insisted on the radio medevac forms yesterday.

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

🌿 Jenny19:19

I'd just be cataloguing the fish we pass. You'd love the data.

Sit heavily in the kitchen chair and begin peeling back the bandage on my ankle.

💭 peek at the thought

He thinks my talking is the danger, not the storm or the sepsis.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin19:21

Talk less. Breathe.

Set the kettle on the stove, pull the antibiotic blister pack from the shelf, pop out the last metronidazole tablet and a fresh doxycycline, set them on the table with a mug of water.

💭 peek at the thought

Red streaks tracking up past the knee now. She's peeling the dressing one-handed, not looking at me, not flinching. The doxycycline should've knocked this back by now. Metronidazole's the only thing left.

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.