The Awakening
Loading image...
One morning, as you wake from troubled dreams, you find yourself transformed in your bed into a horrible vermin.
You lie on your armour-like back, and if you lift your head a little you can see your brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections. The bedding is hardly able to cover it and seems ready to slide off any moment. Your many legs, pitifully thin compared with the size of the rest of you, wave about helplessly as you look.
"What's happened to me?" you think. It is not a dream. The rain beats against the window pane.