Metamorphosis - Omitted by Timothy Dooner (summer books txt) 📕

As the clock struck the first morning hour, Gregor found himself unable to achieve proper slumber. If it was not the pain that echoed throughout his body from
navigating around the effects the charwoman had strewn about his room, than the rapturous aching of his stomach was sure to make sleep nigh impossible. Due to his families preoccupations the kitchen pipes had been let go causing a wretched iterminable leak to ring cacophonously throughout the flat. Gregor soon noticed that the door to his room was ajar, a rarity during the evenings as the three lodgers were most unaware of his existence. Hissing with rage he scuttled off his chair, at first thinking that he had better conceal himself under the couch as to avoid detection, however anon he decided to quietly investigate the hallway.

It was barren, or at least more so than Gregor had last remembered, apparently most of the families wares had either been sold or discarded in his room. He glanced right, first to see if the lodgers were tucked away in their room, however his eyes barely functioned any more and a scant five meters proved well beyond his field of vision. Normally he would never have mustered the courage to venture out of his room and risk an uproar, but the pang in his stomach allowed him to convoke the bravado. The room was cold, or at least cold enough to make Gregor’s already troubled legs have to work double time. When he was permitted to roam the apartment he would never have rushed across the ceiling, but at this time stealth took precedence over manners. It may have taken seconds, but it could have been minutes, regardless, to his relief the three men were snoring their dreams away.

Once Gregor marked his course for the kitchen his nose was infiltrated by a familiar but ghastly stench. Initially he thought it was emitting from the kitchen, but as he neared the source he realized his error. Although he was already weezing, he picked up his pace and rounded past the ceiling fan and into the dining room. There stood the source of the odor, a massive conifer littered with icing, glass, popcorn, and an angel. Aghast he lost his command of the ceiling and collapsed on the hardwood floor with a resounding din. The impact of the floor was nothing compared to the weight on his heart. He couldn’t believe that his family had kept Christmas from him. This was to be the year that he consoled Grete, making reparations by sending her to the Conservatory. Now his misfortune took hold and Gregor cursed himself, momentarily forgetting where he was. Before he had the chance to right himself an enormous damask apparition shot out from the darkness followed by the shatter of glass. A specter with a billowing beard stood over him, for all he knew it was his father. Then he saw it, the gilded frame glistened in the moon light and his reflection merged with the lady wearing her small fur hat in the picture. A terrible gust filled the room and he was alone once more. Eventually Gregor made the effort to restore himself and crawled over to the shattered glass. With his mandible he began eating the bits of cookie that had yet to be tainted by eggnog, finally summoning the strength to return to his room.

Publication Date: 04-04-2009

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Dedication:
Franz Kafka