the keeper's cottage · day 931 · midday

A Quiet Stretch

Back at the cottage.

Kevin and Jenny traveled to the shrine to retrieve the letter left by Tom. The envelope was damp from the humid sea air, but the contents remained largely intact. They returned to the cottage to inspect the message as the supply boat arrival approaches.

🌿 Jenny15:29

Kevin?

Walk to the shrine and collect the waterlogged letter from the altar.

💭 peek at the thought

The infection is spreading faster than the poultice can contain. Twelve days left if I'm lucky. The soil samples from north ridge are still in the trench bucket, half-buried in sediment. Kevin left his letter on the altar again—salt-stained and unreadable now. The barometer's climbing, which means either a storm's coming or the island's holding its breath.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🔧 Kevin15:29

Yeah.

Wipe mortar-stained hands on my trousers, walk from the garden trench toward the shrine on the south slope.

💭 peek at the thought

She's taking Tom's letter from the shrine. The one I couldn't bring myself to read all the way through. The one that sat there for weeks while the sea decided whether to give it back. She's going to read it. Or ask me to. Either way the wall between that news and us just came down.

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

🌿 Jenny15:31

Kevin, the letter on the altar—it's wet. I need to see if there's anything useful in it before I start the soil samples tomorrow.

Take his arm and guide him back to the shrine, then pull the letter from the altar cloth.

💭 peek at the thought

The letter's beyond saving, but I need to know what he wrote. Twelve tablets left. The infection line moved again this morning.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🔧 Kevin15:31

It's Tom's. From the supply boat. Six months late.

Follow her to the shrine, boots heavy on the path. Stop three feet back. Watch her hands on the envelope.

💭 peek at the thought

She's practical. Always practical. The letter's been on that altar through two storms and the humidity's been eating it. She wants to know if there's coordinates, a frequency, something actionable before she commits to the ridge tomorrow. Not because she cares what Tom wrote. Because she cares what's useful.

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

🌿 Jenny15:33

Kevin, can you radio Tom again? Tell him the med kit's compromised—need the antibiotics and the water test strips. Priority one.

Radio the supply boat on 2182 kHz using the handheld VHF, requesting immediate delivery of medical supplies and pH testing strips.

💭 peek at the thought

Tom's letter about the supply boat delay while I'm down to twelve tablets and the infection's creeping past the third joint. The soil samples are ready in the trench bucket, but I can't risk going blind from sepsis.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🔧 Kevin15:34

Hold on—I'll key the shortwave first, check if the boat's even listening.

Move inside, grab the shortwave radio, adjust the antenna by the window. Key the mic at 2182 kHz.

💭 peek at the thought

She's making it about Tom now. About what he can fix for us. About what the supply boat can carry. Not about what the sea might or might not do. She's taking control of the radio frequency like she's always done, making it about logistics instead of waiting.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🌿 Jenny15:35

Kevin, if they don't respond, I need to head out to the north ridge at first light anyway. The soil pockets there are my only chance for the heirloom seeds to survive.

Check the barometer reading (1008 hPa rising) and mark the infection boundary with a pen before returning to the trench bucket with soil samples.

💭 peek at the thought

The infection's moving too fast for radio delays. Twelve days on doxycycline, but I need those pH strips to verify the north ridge soil before planting grandmother's seeds tomorrow. Kevin's already checking the radio—I can't afford another failed contact.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

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