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Автор: Franz Kafka

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"Oh, God", he thought, "what a strenuous career it is that I've
chosen! Travelling day in and day out. Doing business like this
takes much more effort than doing your own business at home, and
on top of that there's the curse of travelling, worries about
making train connections, bad and irregular food, contact with
different people all the time so that you can never get to know
anyone or become friendly with them. It can all go to Hell!" He
felt a slight itch up on his belly; pushed himself slowly up on
his back towards the headboard so that he could lift his head
better; found where the itch was, and saw that it was covered
with lots of little white spots which he didn't know what to make
of; and when he tried to feel the place with one of his legs he
drew it quickly back because as soon as he touched it he was
overcome by a cold shudder.

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