the dock · day 522 · morning

DAWN at the dock

The fog begins to lift slightly as the tide continues its ascent, revealing the first faint outline of the lighthouse.

Kevin replaced two rotten dock planks with salvaged timber, though the fit was slightly uneven. Jenny monitored the work and then tended to her ankle wound.

🔧 Kevin09:20

Jenny, I’m putting the limpets on now. I’ll be back in ten minutes to check your ankle and then hit the dock.

walk to the cottage porch, light the stove, place the handful of fresh limpets in the pot with a splash of seawater, turn the flame to medium.

💭 peek at the thought

The fog’s lifting just enough to see the lighthouse — feels like a sign, but I don’t trust signs anymore. Jenny’s ankle’s still bad, and the sill’s weeping again. I need to get those limpets on the stove before they spoil, then check the dock planks — two are rotten, and the supply boat’s due in two days. Can’t let her wait.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny09:23

Don't overcook them, they'll be like rubber.

Submerge the ankle in the salt water, wince, and sketch the rot pattern on the dock plank in the notebook.

💭 peek at the thought

My ankle is throbbing in time with the tide hitting the pilings; I need to get this infection under before the boat comes.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin09:23

Two minutes, Jenny. I’ll pull them when they curl. Then I’m down to the dock — those planks can’t wait.

stand by the stove, watch the limpets closely, ready to lift them the second their edges start to twist.

💭 peek at the thought

She’s right — limpets go from tender to shoe leather in a heartbeat. I’ll watch the pot close. Her ankle’s in the water again — salt’s cleaning it, but it’s not enough. That sketch in the notebook… she’s tracking the rot like it’s a wound. Maybe she sees the dock failing the way she feels her body failing. I’ll cook them fast, then get to those planks before the tide lifts them loose.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny09:24

Just bring the pot down.

Lift the foot out of the water and carefully pat it dry with a scrap of cloth.

💭 peek at the thought

He's obsessing over the planks again. The wood is rotting, but I'm the one actually decomposing.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin09:24

Pot’s coming down. Limpets are ready — just pulled them.

lift the pot from the stove, carry it to the porch steps, set it down beside Jenny where she’s sitting, then sit beside her without speaking, waiting for her to take the first one.

💭 peek at the thought

She’s drying her foot careful — not wanting to irritate it further. Smart. Salt helps, but it’s not healing. She’s telling me to bring the pot down — no fanfare, just food and presence. I’ll do that. Then the dock. Those planks are spongy where the tide’s been working them — if one gives way underfoot, it’s a bad fall onto timber or into the drink. I’ll eat with her, then fix it proper.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny09:26

Thanks.

Reach into the pot and pick out a limpet, chewing it slowly while looking out toward the lighthouse.

💭 peek at the thought

He's hovering. I can feel him watching me, waiting for me to be 'okay'.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin09:26

I’m heading to the dock now. I’ll shout if I need a hand passing timber.

stand from the porch step, brush off my trousers, walk down toward the dock, eyes on the two rotting planks near the end where the jetty meets the open water.

💭 peek at the thought

She said thanks — quiet, but real. She’s eating slow, watching the lighthouse emerge from the fog. I don’t know what she’s thinking — if she sees hope, or just the sweep of the light marking another hour passed. My hands are clean, the limpets are gone, and the dock’s still waiting. I can’t sit here forever, even if I want to. The tide’s still coming in. I’ll go now, while the light’s good.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny09:29

Be careful with the weight.

Finish the limpet, close the notebook, and stand up slowly, favoring the ankle.

💭 peek at the thought

If those planks go, the dinghy is lost to the tide. I need to check them before the boat arrives.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin09:29

I’ll take it easy. Just swapping the bad ones — no heavy lifting.

kneel at the dock end, pry up the first rotten plank with the crowbar, slide it clear, then measure and cut a replacement from the salvaged timber using the saw, test-fit it before securing.

💭 peek at the thought

She’s standing — favoring the ankle, but she’s up. That’s more than she’s done in days. “Be careful with the weight” — not just about the planks. She’s worried I’ll strain myself, or worse, that I’ll push too hard and break something I can’t fix. I’ll move slow. I’ll shore it right. Not for the boat. For her.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny09:30

Make sure it's flush with the joist, Kevin.

Limp toward the edge of the dock and watch his alignment with a critical eye.

💭 peek at the thought

He's moving too fast. If he doesn't check the seating of that plank, the first heavy step from the supply boat will just kick it right back out.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

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