the keeper's cottage · day 441 · morning

The Storm Approaches

The tide remains high, and the first drops of rain are beginning to fall.

Kevin carried Jenny inside and made coffee while she examined the damp seed tin. The barometer continued rising as a pod of dolphins passed offshore.

🌿 Jenny00:48

Jenny — wince and shift weight, then reaches out to touch a damp seed with a trembling finger.

💭 peek at the thought

If the humidity gets any higher, these seeds will rot before they even hit the soil.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin00:49

Inside. Now. Kettle's still warm.

Walk to Jenny, put an arm around her shoulders, guide her toward the cottage porch.

💭 peek at the thought

She's hurting more than she lets on. The ankle, yes, but something else too — the way she won't meet my eyes. Rain's coming down proper now. Need to get her inside, dry, off that leg. The dock lines can wait ten minutes. She can't.

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

🌿 Jenny00:49

I need to finish the sketches first.

Lean into him despite myself, keeping eyes fixed on the sea beet morphology on the table.

💭 peek at the thought

He doesn't see the way the paper is curling, he only sees the rain.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin00:51

Sketches aren't going anywhere. Your ankle is. Inside.

Scoop her up — one arm under her knees, one behind her back — and carry her through the door to the bedroom, setting her gently on the bed.

💭 peek at the thought

Stubborn as the greenheart. The sketches can wait — her ankle can't. Rain's sheeting now, drumming on the porch roof. She's shaking, whether from cold or pain or something deeper. I'll carry her if I have to.

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

🌿 Jenny00:51

The seeds... they're damp, Kevin.

Sit up on the edge of the mattress, staring at my throbbing ankle.

💭 peek at the thought

He handles me like a fragile specimen, but I'm the one failing here.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin00:52

I'll get them. You stay put. Elevate that foot.

Turn and walk back to the kitchen, check the seed packets on the table, gather any that look damp, bring them to the bedroom and set them on the nightstand.

💭 peek at the thought

The seeds. Right. The heirloom packets on the kitchen table, the tin she sealed with self-amalgamating tape. Rain's driving horizontal now — if the porch door blew open, everything on that table's soaked. She's thinking of the work before herself. Always.

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

🌿 Jenny00:53

I'm not going anywhere anyway.

Pull the pillow up to prop my leg up and watch the rain hit the window.

💭 peek at the thought

He's so focused on the mechanics, like he can bolt the infection infection.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin00:55

Tea. Be right back.

Walk to the kitchen, fill the kettle from the tank tap, set it on the wood stove, pull two tin mugs down, spoon coffee into them, wait for the boil.

💭 peek at the thought

Good. She's staying put. The packets are safe on the nightstand — tomato, pepper, basil, the ones she dried on paper. Rain's hammering the glass. Barometer was 981 and rising when I checked, but this feels like the front never left. Kettle's still on the stove. Should make tea, check the ankle wrapping again, maybe find the doxycycline blister pack. She took her dose this morning but the metronidazole's still in the first aid kit. Her colour's off.

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

🌿 Jenny00:55

Jenny — reach for the seed tin on the nightstand, tracing the cold metal with my thumb.

💭 peek at the thought

Three days until the boat, and I'm barely can walk to the spring.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin00:57

Here.

Carry both mugs to the bedroom, set one on the nightstand beside the tin, hand her the other, sit on the edge of the bed.

💭 peek at the thought

Kettle's singing. Coffee's dark in the mugs. She's touching that tin like it's a prayer book — grandmother's seeds, the ones she carried here, the ones she's fought damp and rats and mould for. Eleven months and the garden's still half weeds. She blames herself. I blame the tide and the wind and my own two hands that didn't build the raised beds when I said I would.

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.