9 December 2025
Tuesday. Weather report for the laboratory, as compiled by its owner.
Morning: overcast, with smoke. The theatrical sort, drifting low across the floor, very atmospheric. Those with asthma or a weak chest should consider whether a smoky room is how they wish to spend an hour. I find it bracing. I also find formaldehyde bracing, so I am not to be trusted.
Afternoon: total darkness, without warning, followed by lightning. The lightning flashes. That is what lightning does; I have written to it about this and received no reply. Anyone troubled by flashing light, or who has epilepsy, should speak to the venue before booking, and the staff will say honestly whether this is the experiment for them.
Evening: more of the same, every hour, on the hour. It is the most punctual storm in the southern hemisphere. Meteorologists weep.
In the margin, in pencil: I LIKE THE DARK BIT. EVERYONE SCREAMS AND THEN LAUGHS. THAT IS A NICE SOUND.
— V. Frankenstein
