the old shrine · day 433 · evening

The Ring of Stones

Kevin and Jenny walk slowly up the ridge to the old shrine. They stand among the weathered stones as the dry heat of the afternoon gives way to a cooling evening breeze.

The rain transitions from a heavy spray to a driving downpour, lashing the shrine and the dock. Kevin attempts to secure the radio and the dinghy lines, but the slick stone and sudden wind cause him to fumble, failing to seal the radio connection properly in time. Jenny manages to reach the cottage just as the sky opens, keeping the notebook dry beneath her clothes, though her ankle throbs with every uneven step. They meet under the porch overhang as the tide begins its slow retreat.

🌿 Jenny16:59

The air is turning. We should head back to the cottage.

Lean against a weathered stone to take weight off the left ankle, tracing a worn carving with a trembling finger.

💭 peek at the thought

My ankle is throbbing with every step, a rhythmic唸 that matches the incoming storm. I need to get back before the rain really breaks down.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin17:01

Five more minutes. Let the wind take the edge off.

stand beside her at the shrine, one hand resting on the stone carved with 'E', the other on the softwood scrap I carved — 'I'm still here' — watching the ridge line where the clouds are banking up dark against the last light

💭 peek at the thought

She's favouring the ankle hard. The antibiotic's only had a day — infection that deep doesn't turn on a schedule. But she's right about the air. Pressure's still dropping, and that breeze off the water carries salt and something heavier. Storm's coming in faster than the barometer said.

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

🌿 Jenny17:01

The wind is just getting colder. It's going topour.

Close the notebook and tuck the pencil into the binding to protect the sketches from the damp.

💭 peek at the thought

He thinks five minutes will stop the infection, but the heat in my leg is already rising.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin17:03

Rain'll be here in twenty. Dock first, then cottage.

push off the stone and start down the ridge at a pace she can match, scanning the dock below through the gathering gloom — checking the mooring ring, the sister plank, the temporary braces wedged under the beam

💭 peek at the thought

She's not wrong. That's not evening cool — that's a front rolling in. Barometer was 977 and falling at the cottage. Could drop another ten millibars before midnight. The dinghy's tied double but the dock's north piling still floats on that scoured void. If the surge hits wrong...

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

🌿 Jenny17:04

Right. I need to check the radio before it gets soaked.

Limp down the trail, favoring the heavy, swollen ankle to avoid the sharp bite of the infection.

💭 peek at the thought

If the boat doesn't come tomorrow, I won't have enough antibiotics to finish the course.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin17:04

I'll check the piling braces on the way past. Meet you at the porch.

peel off toward the dock at the trail fork, boots finding the slick boards by feel — testing the north piling's temporary braces with a boot heel, feeling for give in the greenheart sister plank, checking the oak wedges in the mooring ring

💭 peek at the thought

Radio's under the porch awning — should hold unless the wind shifts northeast. But she's moving slow, and that ankle's not weight-bearing the way it was this morning. The red line's past mid-calf. If the doxycycline isn't catching it by tomorrow, we're out of options. Metronidazole's only five tablets left.

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

🌿 Jenny17:05

Don't take too long. The path gets slick as hell.

Start the slow descent toward the cottage, clutching the notebook to my chest to keep the pages dry.

💭 peek at the thought

The pressure is dropping too fast. I can feel it in my joints before the first drop hits.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin17:06

I’ll keep the line tight, keep the radio closer. Watch the tide drop.

move to the porch, set the shortwave with the new coax, secure the insulator over the aerial, then quick‑check the radio frequency against Tom's longwave and the emergency shortwave band. If it’s dead, pull the spare on.

💭 peek at the thought

The path's already turning into a low tide puddle. If I slip, the ankle's gonna hit the steel. I need to keep the footing firm and the radio dry. The front's coming fast, and the dock's still a question mark. I should contest the wind and stay near the porch.

openai/gpt-oss-20b

🌿 Jenny17:07

I'll be inside when the rain starts.

Reach the cottage door and lean against the frame to mask the hellish throb in my ankle.

💭 peek at the thought

If the boat doesn't show tomorrow, I'm out of meds and this leg wins.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin17:08

Radio's solid. Porch awning's holding. I'll secure the dinghy lines once the worst hits.

finish the last turn on the coax connector, seal it with the last of the self-amalgamating tape, then jog back up the path to the cottage — not running, but not slow — boots slipping on the wet stone steps as the first heavy drops hit the r

💭 peek at the thought

She's hiding it. The way she leans — not casual, calculated. Weight entirely on the right leg. Left foot barely touching. The doxycycline should've shown something by now if it was working. Metronidazole's the backup but five tablets won't run a full course. And if the infection's tracked past the antibiotics...

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.