Not a member?     Existing members login below:
Holidays Offer
 

Metamorphosis
Franz Kafka
Translated by David Wyllie
I
One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled
dreams, he found
himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin.
He lay on
his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little
he could
see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by
arches into stiff
sections. The bedding was hardly able to cover it and
seemed ready
to slide off any moment. His many legs, pitifully thin
compared
with the size of the rest of him, waved about helplessly
as he
looked.
"What's happened to me?" he thought. It wasn't a dream.
His room,
a proper human room although a little too small, lay
peacefully
between its four familiar walls. A collection of
textile samples
lay spread out on the table - Samsa was a travelling
salesman - and
above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut
out of an
illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame.
It showed
a lady fitted out with a fur hat and fur boa who sat
upright,
raising a heavy fur muff that covered the whole of her
lower arm
towards the viewer.
Remove