Metamorphosis- Creative Writing

He glanced out of the window, watching the sky turning from a deep

blue shade to a clear, blue, breezy morning. ‘A good day.’ He made a

mental note to himself. The sun baked through the curtains, sharpening

his enormous shadow. He thought of that fussy factory owner and

sighed. ‘ What am I going to say? Hello, Mr. Martin. I’m afraid I

can’t meet you in the hotel this afternoon. Guess what! I have had a

terrible twist of fate and have turned into a big, juicy vermin! And

then he would reply: How nice! Mr. Samsa, have you got tentacles

growing from your baldhead as well? That is so insane!’ Gregor

couldn’t help chuckling to himself at this thought, interrupted by the

creaking noise from the landing outside his room. ‘It’s nearly time

for breakfast.’ Had he known what would happen, he might have done

something else. Instead, he followed his dull routine, as if all the

days in the world were still to come. He remembered promising his

family to move to a larger house and giving them a better life. But

now! He explored his body like an infant. His legs were so limber that

he could stretch them and put them over his head, as if he was still a

child. He punched at his horribly hard belly and his stomach twitched

painfully.

His brain is full of confusion. All sorts of sound were rushing into

his ears: The greetings on the street, the doorbell rung by the boy

who delivered the newspaper and milk, and what troubled him most was

the clinking sound of the plates and forks, which meant breakfast

would be ready in no time. He wanted so much to sleep through these

sounds like a lullaby, to escape from reality. He wondered how on

earth the surr...

... middle of paper ...

... in the quiet, old attic. ‘See? Greg! What if you killed him? Oh son!

Why are you in such a state!’ Nobody spoke until a kid’s voice coming

from nowhere broke the silence.

‘Wow! Such a good show!’ Said the voice. ‘I would have stopped you

when you nearly killed him, I bet you.’ The three of them were

perplexed, bewildered and dumbstruck. ‘Oh well…I should have explained

more. I am working on my coursework for my drama GCAE (General Certificate

for Angel’s Education). So you see. That’s why I need a…

umm…demonstration. I deliberately turned your son into a vermin and

studied your reactions. I should apologize…and look!

Gregor Samsa found himself crawling on the dusty floor with an

expression that resembled a survived encounter. The horrible white

spotted brown belly and his many legs were never to be seen again.