The Meowmorphosis by Franz Kafka Read Free Book Online Page A

to very attentively and that he completely endorsed. Later, however, they had to hold her back forcefully, and when she then cried, “Let me go to Gregor. He’s my poor son! Don’t you understand that I have to go to him?” Gregor then thought that perhaps it would be a good thing if his mother came in—not every day, of course, but maybe once a week. She understood everything much better than his sister, who, in spite of all her courage, was still a child and, in the last analysis, had perhaps undertaken such a task out of childish desire. His mother would surely sit calmly and read while he crouched near her—but not too near. She might reach out and pat him once an hour, if she liked, but she would not importune him in the same way that Grete did, he felt certain.
    Gregor’s wish to see his mother was soon realized. While during the day he wanted nothing more than to sit himself by the window, he couldn’t crawl around very much on the few square inches of the sill. He found it difficult to bear lying quietly during the night, for his paws, his whiskers, his tail all wished to prowl and to hunt—though all that he could find to expend his desire upon was a few dust-motes his sister had missed in her cleaning. Soon eating no longer gave him much pleasure, for the food lay there dead and did not offer any sport at all. So for diversion he acquired the habit of scampering back and forth across the mantel and bookshelves. He was especiallyfond of hanging from the draperies. The experience was quite different from lying on the floor. It was easier to breathe, a slight vibration went through his body, and in the midst of the almost happy amusement that Gregor found up there, it could happen that, to his own surprise, he let go and hit the floor. However, now he naturally controlled his body quite differently, and he did not injure himself in such a great fall, but without fail landed firmly upon his four paws. His sister noticed immediately the new amusement that Gregor had found for himself—for as he crept around he left behind here and there traces of his wispy white fur—and so she got the idea of making Gregor’s bouncing around as easy as possible and thus of removing the furniture, which was starting to get quite scratched and ruined by his attention, especially the chest of drawers and the writing desk.
    But she was in no position to do this by herself, and she did not dare to ask her father to help. Thus, Grete had no other choice but to involve their mother while their father was absent. Gregor’s mother approached his room with cries of excited joy, but she fell silent at the door. Of course, his sister first checked whether everything in the room was in order. Only then did she let his mother walk in. In great haste, Gregor had dragged the sheet down even farther and wrinkled it more; now the whole thing really looked just like a coverlet thrown carelessly over the couch. On this occasion, Gregor held back from spyingout from under the sheet—he didn’t need to see his mother this time, he was just happy that she had come. “Come on, he’s just hiding,” said his sister, and evidently led his mother by the hand. Now Gregor listened as the two women struggled to push the heavy old chest of drawers from its position. His sister constantly took on herself the greater part of the work, without listening to the warnings of his mother, who was afraid that she would strain herself. The work lasted a long time; after about a quarter of an hour had gone by, his mother said it would be better if they left the chest of drawers where it was, because, in the first place, it was too heavy—they would not be finished before his father’s arrival, and leaving the chest of drawers in the middle of the room would block all Gregor’s pathways—but, in the second place, she pointed out, they could not be certain Gregor would be pleased with the removal of the furniture. To her the reverse seemed to be true: the