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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. Gre­gor then tur­ned to look out the win­dow at the dull wea­ther.

Pho­to by Uns­plash

 

Introduction

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. Gre­gor then tur­ned to look out the win­dow at the dull wea­ther.

The Plot

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.

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.By Some Thin­ker

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.

Comment

  • Ruben Bris­ti­an says:
    Sep 30 at 02:08

    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 seri­ble ver­min. He lay on his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a litt­le he could see his brown bel­ly.

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