20 March 2025
Thursday. The doors are open. The storm is booked. The first assistants have been led in, blinking, and told the terms.
The terms are simple, and I explained them slowly. Help me finish my work tonight and you may go home. The journals hold the method. The organs are somewhere about the place, because I am a genius and not a tidy one. The power comes from the sky. The grandfather clock in the corner will tell you how long the sky intends to stay.
The first group read my journals aloud to each other in silly voices. I have never been so insulted. They also got remarkably far, which insulted me more.
By evening the Subject had been woken and put back to sleep for the next group more times than I could note down. History will record that I was present on each occasion. History will not record that I spilt tea on the third.
In the margin, in pencil: HELLO. HELLO. HELLO.
— V. Frankenstein
