Книга · Metamorphosis
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Автор: Franz Kafka
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Gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather.
Drops of rain could be heard hitting the pane, which made him
feel quite sad. "How about if I sleep a little bit longer and
forget all this nonsense", he thought, but that was something he
was unable to do because he was used to sleeping on his right,
and in his present state couldn't get into that position. However
hard he threw himself onto his right, he always rolled back to
where he was. He must have tried it a hundred times, shut his
eyes so that he wouldn't have to look at the floundering legs,
and only stopped when he began to feel a mild, dull pain there
that he had never felt before.
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