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.
« What’s happened to me? » he thought. It wasn’t a dream. His room, a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully between its four familiar walls.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 in a nice, gilded frame.