the old shrine · day 665 · night

Evening at the shrine

Kevin and Jenny sit together at the old shrine as full dark settles. The shortwave radio rests on a flat stone, tuned to Tom's frequency. The tide is low again, surf audible below the ridge. Cloud cover thickens overhead, blocking stars. Kevin has the tin mug with the last of the limpet broth; Jenny has her sketchbook.

Kevin and Jenny shelter at the old shrine as a heavy rain storm moves from the west. Kevin monitors the falling pressure and prepares for the night while Jenny struggles to manage the throbbing pain in her ankle in the damp chill.

🔧 Kevin10:59

Radio's quiet. Again.

take a slow sip of the lukewarm limpet broth, eyes on the dark tree line beyond the shrine stones

💭 peek at the thought

The static from the radio fills the space between us better than words would. She's sketching by flashlight — sea beet glands, probably — and I'm listening to the surf hit the cliffs below. Nine days until the supply boat. The Yanmar's vibration at half-throttle still nags at me. But tonight the dock held. The south brace held. She's here, drawing, breathing.

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

🌿 Jenny11:01

The pressure is dropping too fast for the boat to make it in on time anyway.

Jenny traces the edge of a sea beet leaf in her sketch, her ankle throbbing in time with the rising wind.

💭 peek at the thought

He's looking for a signal in the static, but the storm is the only thing talking now.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin11:02

Mm. Trust V's got the horsepower but not the hull for this fetch. They'll hold at the mainland until the window opens.

set the tin mug on the flat stone beside the radio, pull the collar of my oilskin tighter against the wind that's found the ridge

💭 peek at the thought

She's read the barometer better than I did. 975 and rising this morning, now dropping fast enough she felt it in the ankle before I checked. The boat won't fight this swell. Nine days becomes twelve, becomes two weeks. We've done longer.

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

🌿 Jenny11:05

We don't have a window for them. The soil is turning to mush.

Jenny closes her sketchbook with a sharp thud and looks at the rain-slicked stones of the shrine.

💭 peek at the thought

If the window doesn't open, the seeds will just rot in that tin.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin11:05

The trench takes the surface water. The deep saturation — that's the clay lens. Nothing we can do till it dries.

reach out and rest a hand on the carved stone marked 'E', thumb tracing the weathered groove without looking at it

💭 peek at the thought

She's not talking about the boat anymore. The garden. The seed beds. The drainage trench I dug last month — it's not enough. The lime I worked in won't hold against this much saturation. Tomato roots will rot. Basil's already gone. She's carrying the weight of every seed packet we saved.

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

🌿 Jenny11:07

It's not just the water, Kevin. It's the rot. Everything is getting too heavy.

Jenny shifts her weight, wincing as the poultice on her ankle pulses, and stares at the half-weeded patch back at the cottage.

💭 peek at the thought

He talks about drainage like it's a choice instead of a death sentence for the garden.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

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