the keeper's cottage · day 415 · midday

Midday Heat

The humidity is oppressive as the overcast sky thickens. You and Jenny meet for lunch to decide on the afternoon's tasks.

The humidity is heavy as the clouds close in over the island. Jenny rests on the porch, managing the swelling in her ankle with a fresh dressing, while Kevin checks the barometer and prepares for the potential shift in weather.

🔧 Kevin23:51

Mackerel and limpets. Eat while it's hot.

set two tin mugs on the porch table, pull out the wooden crate for a seat, and gesture to the food

💭 peek at the thought

She's moving slower today. Ankle's stiffening despite the antibiotics. Need to keep the afternoon light — tide's high enough for the shackle check, that's the only must-do. Rest can wait.

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

🌿 Jenny23:53

I'm not really hungry, Kev.

Lean back against the porch wall and gingerly lift the ankle to inspect the dressing.

💭 peek at the thought

I can't even look at the food. The smell of the fish is making my stomach turn, and the throb in my leg is timed to my heartbeat.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin23:53

You need calories for the antibiotics to work. Eat half.

push the second mug closer to her, settle on the crate opposite, watch her ankle not her face

💭 peek at the thought

She's not eating. Not hungry, she says. Ankle's swelling against the wrap. Red lines haven't moved but the skin's shiny tight. She knows what that means. I know what that means. Neither of us says it.

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

🌿 Jenny23:55

(with a small, tired laugh) I'm not a Yanmar, Kevin.

Take a small, reluctant spoonful of the limpets and chew slowly.

💭 peek at the thought

He's treating me like a malfunctioning engine again. Just fuel the system so the parts don't fail.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin23:55

No. You're not.

eat my own portion in silence, wipe the tin rim with a thumb, glance at the barometer on the shelf through the doorway — 989 and steady

💭 peek at the thought

Not a Yanmar. No. She's softer. Breaks easier. Takes longer to repair.

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

🌿 Jenny23:57

The barometer is lying. Look at those clouds.

Reach down and carefully peel back a corner of the gauze to check the infection line.

💭 peek at the thought

Steady is a lie. The sky looks like a bruise. I need to know if those red lines have moved while I was sitting here.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin23:57

Pen mark still holding?

stand, walk to the doorway, pull the storm lantern down from its hook, check the wick

💭 peek at the thought

She's right. Barometer's steady but the sky's bruising purple-grey to the west. Front's building. Pressure holds before it drops. She's checking the line herself — doesn't trust my eyes, or doesn't want to ask.

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

🌿 Jenny23:59

It's... still there. I think.

Press a finger firmly against the skin just above the pen mark to see if the inflammation feels deeper.

💭 peek at the thought

He's avoiding looking. He'd rather check a wick than see how much more of my leg is turning red.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin23:59

Four hours. Fresh dressing. We'll catch the high tide for the shackle after.

turn back from the lantern, set it on the table, pull the first aid kit from the shelf and open it on the porch rail

💭 peek at the thought

She's pressing it. Testing depth. The mark's holding but she's not sure. Neither am I. Infection's cunning — travels where you can't see. Doxycycline's had twenty hours. Should be slowing. If it's not...

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

🌿 Jenny00:01

I can do the dressing myself.

Reach for the first aid kit, trying to pull it toward me with one arm.

💭 peek at the thought

He's already scheduled my afternoon around his hardware. I can't even get a moment to just be sick without it being a 'task'.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

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