<p>One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin.</p><p>He lay on his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections.</p><p>The bedding was hardly able to cover it and seemed ready to slide off any moment.</p><p>His many legs, pitifully thin compared with the size of the rest of him, waved about helplessly as he looked.</p><p>"What's happened to me?</p><p>" he thought. It wasn't a dream.</p><p>His room, a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully between its four familiar walls.</p><p>A collection of textile samples lay spread out on the table - Samsa was a travelling salesman - and above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and housed</p>