13 August 2024
Tuesday. Complaint received, via a team on the cameras, that my lab is “foggy”. It is not fog. It is atmosphere. There is a difference, and the difference is that I meant it.
For the record, so nobody can say they were not told: theatrical smoke drifts through the lab, the lights go out when the power stutters, and they flash when it stutters harder. I did not design it that way for drama. I designed it that way because the building is falling apart. The drama is a side effect.
A survivor with a puffer asked at the door whether the haze would bother her chest. The staff told her honestly that it might, and that anybody with asthma or another breathing condition should think it over before booking. I would like those staff to work for me. They give a better safety briefing than I ever did.
Then there is Gerald. Gerald is not a special effect. Gerald is a colleague with a bad attitude, and when a team leans too close to his glass, he lets them know. Today a grown man screamed so loudly the vials rang. I have recorded the note. It was an A flat.
Gerald seemed pleased. I worry that he is starting to enjoy this.
— Dr Morrow, Storeroom B
