22 April 2027
Thursday. School holidays, and the laboratory has been full of readers.
My experiment is a great deal of reading. Journals, labels, charts, notes to myself, notes on the notes. I write in English, because I am a scholar, and a group in which most people read English comfortably will get on far better than one squinting at my capital letters. The company recommends exactly that, and I agree with it, which I resent.
The story and the hints are spoken, through the walls, in a voice the company assures me is very like mine. Today one assistant was hard of hearing, and her friends passed on every word as it came while she did the work with her hands. She had found two organs before they had finished repeating the first sentence.
I have also discovered how the Subject learned to write. He has been reading my journals at night. Every word. He has corrected my spelling in four of them.
In the margin: Five. “Galvanism” has one L. I had been meaning to mention it. I have also learned the word “galvanism” itself, and I like it very much. It sounds like a sneeze in a bow tie.
— V. Frankenstein
