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Metamorphosis
Franz Kafka

Translated by David Wyllie

I

One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he foundhimself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin. He lay onhis armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he couldsee his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiffsections. The bedding was hardly able to cover it and seemed readyto slide off any moment. His many legs, pitifully thin comparedwith the size of the rest of him, waved about helplessly as helooked.

"What's happened to me?" he thought. It wasn't a dream. His room,a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefullybetween its four familiar walls. A collection of textile sampleslay spread out on the table - Samsa was a travelling salesman - andabove it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of anillustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame. It showeda 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 armtowards the viewer.

Gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather.Drops of rain could be heard hitting the pane, which made him feelquite sad. "How about if I sleep a little bit longer and forget allthis nonsense", he thought, but that was something he was unable todo because he was used to sleeping on his right, and in his presentstate couldn't get into that position. However hard he threwhimself onto his right, he always rolled back to where he was. Hemust have tried it a hundred times, shut his eyes so that hewouldn't have to look at the floundering legs, and only stopped whenhe began to feel a mild, dull pain there that he had never feltbefore.

"Oh, God", he thought, "what a strenuous career it is that I'vechosen! Travelling day in and day out. Doing business like thistakes much more effort than doing your own business at home, and ontop of that there's the curse of travelling, worries about makingtrain connections, bad and irregular food, contact with differentpeople all the time so that you can never get to know anyone orbecome friendly with them. It can all go to Hell!" He felt aslight itch up on his belly; pushed himself slowly up on his backtowards the headboard so that he could lift his head better; foundwhere the itch was, and saw that it was covered with lots of littlewhite spots which he didn't know what to make of; and when he triedto feel the place with one of his legs he drew it quickly backbecause as soon as he touched it he was overcome by a cold shudder.

He slid back into his former position. "Getting up early all thetime", he thought, "it makes you stupid. You've got to get enoughsleep. Other travelling salesmen live a life of luxury. Forinstance, whenever I go back to the guest house during the morningto copy out the contract, these gentlemen are always still sittingthere eating their breakfasts. I ought to just try that with myboss; I'd get kicked out on the spot. But who knows, maybe thatwould be the best thing for me. If I didn't have my parents tothink about I'd have given in my notice a long time ago, I'd havegone up to the boss and told him just what I think, tell himeverything I would, let him know just what I feel. He'd fall rightoff his desk! And it's a funny sort of business to be sitting upthere at your desk, talking down at your subordinates from up there,especially when you have to go right up close because the boss ishard of hearing. Well, there's still some hope; once I've got themoney together to pay off my parents' debt to him - another five orsix years I suppose - that's definitely what I'll do. That's whenI'll make the big change. First of all though, I've got to get up,my train leaves at five."

And he looked over at the alarm clock, ticking on the chest ofdrawers. "God in Heaven!" he thought. It was half past six and thehands were quietly moving forwards, it was even later than halfpast, more like quarter to seven. Had the alarm clock not rung? Hecould see from the bed that it had been set for four o'clock as itshould have been; it certainly must have rung. Yes, but was itpossible to quietly sleep through that furniture-rattling noise?True, he had not slept peacefully, but probably all the more deeplybecause of that. What should he do now? The next train went atseven; if he were to catch that he would have to rush like mad andthe collection of samples was still not packed, and he did not at