The Meowmorphosis Read Online Free

should’ve shouted, “keep going, keep working on the lock.” Imagining that all his efforts were being observed with suspense, he bit down frantically on the key with all the force he could muster. As the key turned more, he danced around the lock. Now he was holding himself upright only with his mouth, and to continue turning the key he had to hang onto it and press down on it with the whole weight of his body. The quite distinct click of the lock as it finally snapped really woke Gregor up. Breathing heavily, he said to himself, “So I didn’t need the locksmith,”and he set his furry brown head against the door handle to open the door completely.
    Because he had to open the door in this way, it was already open very wide without him yet being really visible. He first had to turn himself slowly around the edge of the door, very carefully, of course, if he didn’t want to fall awkwardly on his back right at the entrance into the room. He was still preoccupied with this difficult movement, and had no time to pay attention to anything else, when he heard the manager exclaim a loud “Oh!”—it sounded like the wind whistling—and now he saw him, nearest to the door, pressing his hand against his open mouth and moving slowly back, as if an invisible constant force was pushing him away. His mother—in spite of the manager’s presence she was standing here with her hair sticking up on end, still a mess from the night—was looking at his father with her hands clasped. She then went two steps toward Gregor and collapsed right in the middle of her skirts, which were spread out all around her, her face sunk on her breast, peering at him with large and delighted eyes. She held out her arms and Gregor leapt happily into them, propelled toward her lap by some ancient instinct he could not suppress. His bulk was too great for her to embrace wholly, however, and Gregor wondered at how large he had already grown, so that his mother could scarcely get her arms around his prodigious girth. Hisfather clenched his fist with a hostile expression, as if he wished to push Gregor away from his wife, then looked uncertainly around the living room, covered his eyes with his hands, and cried so that his mighty belly shook.
    At this point Gregor did not take one step off his mother’s lap, but leaned his body against the firm solidity of her breast, so that only half his body was visible, as well as his head, tilted sideways, with which he peeped over her elbow at the others. Meanwhile it had become much brighter outside. Standing out clearly from the other side of the street was a part of the endless gray-black house situated opposite—it was a hospital—with its severe regular windows breaking up the facade. The rain was still coming down, but only in large individual drops visibly and firmly thrown down one by one onto the ground. The breakfast dishes were standing piled around on the table, because for his father breakfast was the most important meal of the day, which he prolonged for hours by reading various newspapers. Directly across on the opposite wall hung a photograph of Gregor from the time of his military service; it was a picture of him as a lieutenant, smiling and worry free, with his hand on his sword, demanding respect for his bearing and uniform. The door to the hall was ajar, and since the door to the apartment was also open, one could see out into the landing of the apartment and the start of the staircase going down.
    “Now,” said Gregor, well aware that he was the only one who had kept his composure. “I’ll get dressed right away, pack up the collection of samples, and set off. You’ll allow me to set out on my way, will you not? You see, sir, I’m not pigheaded, and I am happy to work. Traveling is exhausting, but I couldn’t live without it. Where are you going—to the office, yes? Will you report everything fairly? A person can be incapable of work momentarily, but that’s precisely the best time to